Families and Familiars: Second Year
by Sherza
Summary: The Death Eaters are on the move, Dumbledore is stymied, and the Black Alliance has geared up for a war on multiple fronts. What challenges will everyone face as Harry goes into his Second Year?
1. Summer Begins

Summer Begins

Summary: The Death Eaters are on the move, Dumbledore is stymied, and the Black Alliance has geared up for a war on multiple fronts. What challenges will everyone face as Harry goes into his Second Year?

Disclaimer: Ain't mine and never will be, sadly. Don't sue.

Notes: This is a sequel to Families and Familiars. This story will make no sense whatever unless you read that first!

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 1, 1992 Potter Castle

Severus had been ... unsure ... about accepting the invitation to Potter Castle. Even knowing there were several floors of rooms and he could isolate himself from Black if it became necessary wasn't enough. Granted, the Castle had no ill memories for him, since he'd never been there, but ... it did have James and Lily's portrait. And even knowing from the letter that Lily had forgiven him, didn't hate him ... well, to say he was hesitant to be anywhere near a portrait of those two people was to vastly understate the case.

Unfortunately, the only place away from Hogwarts available to him was Spinner's End, as he had not anticipated the need for a better home, as he'd lived in Hogwarts since his defection. He had the money, now, to buy a home more to his liking, and would be looking into it so as to have a place before the Christmas holidays, just in case.

Despite all of that, there was a part of him, a part he'd never admit to in a million years, that was looking forward to seeing Lily again, no matter the circumstances, and that it wasn't really, truly Lily. It was close enough.

He arrived in the early morning, apparating to a spot just outside the Castle's wards with a half dozen trunks in tow. He'd decided to pack up all his personal belongings, just in case, including all the potions ingredients and equipment he'd bought with his salary, rather than purchased through Hogwarts' funds for the school's use. He didn't quite trust Dumbledore to not throw a tantrum at some point over the summer. Hogwarts would do what she could to protect his lab, but the truth of it was that a lot of the things in there were rather volatile, and Dumbledore knew more than enough about potions to do some serious damage if he got the mind to.

Moments after he appeared, a young-looking house elf popped into view a few feet ahead of him.

"Master Harry sir is on his way, Master Snape sir. Master Harry is asking Mallie to take Master Snape sir's trunks inside."

Severus nodded. "Very well. These four go into the potions lab. The other two ... " He hesitated for a moment. "I will let you know where they go later." As those two would go into his private room, and he had no idea where he'd be staying.

Mallie nodded and popped out, taking the trunks with her. A few moments later, the heavy portcullis rose, and Harry darted under it, heading straight for Severus.

"Hello Professor!" He called. "Hang on just a second ... " He headed over to the stone he'd used to open the wards when he, Sirius and Remus had first arrived here. He pricked his palm and clapped his hand to the stone, murmuring under his breath. "Ok ... that's got it. You can come in now." Harry clanged over at Severus. "I've added you to the wards so you can come and go at will, including Floo access, rather than having to wait for one of the three of us to let you in or out."

Severus nodded and then crossed the ward boundary. "Thank you, Harry."

He followed Harry onto the Castle's grounds, and blinked at the array of gardens. "Do you know if there is a potions garden among all this?"

"Yes, actually there is. It's around back, near the back gate of the inner wall, so it's easy to get to from the back entrance of the castle, which is the entrance closest to the potions lab." Harry said. "There's something like four greenhouses with plants in them that are used in potions but don't do well in the weather here." He smiled up at Severus. "Actually, the castle is remarkably close to self-sufficient. There are gardens and greenhouses in the inner yard for herbs, spices, fruits and vegetables, as well as orchards. Plus a chicken coop and pigsty. We really only need to buy beef and a few other staples like flour, since there's no facility here ... at least not anymore, for grinding grain into flour. There's even a well with access to an underground spring that lets out into the Sound near here."

"It would seem that your ancestors planned for the worst when they built this castle." Severus admitted. Granted, a lot of things had gone by the wayside over the centuries, but it didn't take much imagination at all to figure out that the place would have been fully self-sustaining behind its high walls if it came under siege in the past.

Harry nodded and then pushed open the front door, as they'd finally reached it. "Yeah, they really did." He said. "And the wards are something else, too. I'm not even sure if Hogwarts' wards are as comprehensive as the ones we have here."

"Possibly not." Severus said. "Hogwarts was conceived, after all, as the home of multitudes, so people would constantly be going in and out of the wards, and with new muggleborns coming in every year, the wards that are keyed to blood would have been impossible to implement, among other problems." Severus didn't even want to think about the logistics that would be required to key new people into the wards every year if Hogwarts had blood wards of any kind.

Much to Severus' relief, neither Black nor Lupin were in evidence as Harry led him across the wide, empty space that was the main floor. "Quick tour." Harry said. "Kitchen and pantry are there." He pointed to the right. "As is one of the bathrooms. Family dining room, which is the one we use, is there." He pointed immediately to the left. "Another bathroom there." Also to the left. "And the Entry Parlor, which has the only fireplace on the Floo network in the castle, is there." He pointed to a room just to the left of the staircase directly across from the entrance. "The rest of it's company and party spaces, really. We don't hang out down here much. We usually just have the elves bring meals to the third floor and eat up there."

Severus followed Harry to the stairs, and up them. "Second floor's got more general stuff. The center room's got the bulk of the library, but there are bookshelves practically everywhere in the castle." Harry told him. "So if you're looking for something in particular, either ask Toker, the head elf, or there's the library ledger on that podium. Write what you're after, and it can tell you where it's at." Harry grinned up at Severus. "There's a dueling room and armory here you might be interested in, as well as a music and craft room, and a couple rooms for records and extra portraits there isn't room for on the walls."

Harry led him up to the third floor. "And this is where we've set ourselves up. Our rooms are there." He pointed immediately to the right of the stairs to the three doors that led to his, Sirius and Remus' rooms. "There's five more rooms on this floor if you decide you want to set up here, which frankly, I recommend ... the decor of the other floors leaves much to be desired, unless gold, filigree and horrendous color combinations are your cuppa."

"Where are Black and Lupin?" Severus asked.

"They're out on the Quidditch pitch. Remus dragged Sirius out there a little bit ago, to let give you a chance to get settled without Sirius in your hair, since the two of you aren't each other's biggest fans. And the twins are coming shortly, as well ... so with some luck, you won't have to deal with each other until dinner." Harry said. "Though I think Sirius and Remus are going to want a meeting, so we can figure out what we're doing and when. The Wizengamot session doesn't start until the sixth, so we've got a few days to do other things in." Harry wrinkled his nose.

Severus caught that reaction. "I thought you would not be attending, as you are too young?"

"Yeah, I'm too young to actually vote, for now, but Sirius wants me to attend anyway, so I start getting a feel for how things work before I have to jump in and start doing it myself."

"That is unusually perceptive of him." Severus grudgingly admitted.

Harry laughed. "Don't sound so surprised, Professor. I dunno what the heck happened between you guys when you were in school, but things ... and people ... have changed a lot since then."

Severus glowered at Harry, but didn't say anything further, reluctantly admitting that Harry had a point. It was just difficult for him to see Black as anything but a vicious bully. After a bit of thought, Severus finally took the room furthest from the 'Potter' corner of the third floor. And studiously did not look for Lily in any of the myriad of portraits on the walls. He would deal with that later. Much, much later if he had any say in the matter. Which, he admitted, he probably didn't. Lily would very likely seek him out.

He still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

His chosen room, much to his relief, were not decorated in Gryffindor colors, but instead in rich browns and creams much like his quarters at Hogwarts had been. There were a number of portraits on three walls, while the fourth was taken up entirely by well-stocked bookshelves, much to Severus' delight. There was also a large desk and chair, aside from the bed, nightstands, and wardrobe. He'd gotten about halfway unpacked when he heard the unmistakable racket of the twins as they clambered up the stairs, remarking loudly about everything they passed. Severus shook his head and left his room to keep an eye on them.

Fred and George eventually decided that, despite the fact there were rooms to spare, they were going to stay in the same room. As such, the bed was changed around with a bit of help from the house elves, so that it was two somewhat smaller beds, rather than one enormous one. Severus insisted on them taking the room right next to his own so that he at least had a chance of keeping an eye on them, compared to if they were halfway across the castle from him.

The three boys then joined Remus and Sirius outside for a fly. Severus took the opportunity to finish unpacking his room, then headed to the basement and the potions lab, to begin unpacking everything there.

The potions lab was to the right of the stairs as he got off them, and he did a double take when he opened the door. The room was brightly lit and looked freshly polished, which was hardly surprising with industrious house elves in residence, but it was something like five times the size of his private lab at Hogwarts. One wall was nothing but racks, some of them for cauldrons, in a wide range of sizes and materials. Other racks held a variety of implements, stirring rods in every material, shape and size, scales of different materials and able to weigh different amounts, ranging from parts of an ounce to many pounds, a huge array of phials in all shapes and sizes, as well as other things needed for advanced potion making. Best of all, there was a podium, heavily laden with protection spells, designed to hold a book open to a particular page, allowing for hands-free referencing of a recipe or a convenient, protected place to put a notebook in which to record experiments. The tables were, in his experience, unique. There were a half a dozen of them, each one quite long, with multiple sections, each section having different surfaces at different heights to accommodate the varying sizes of cauldrons and flame heat required for various potions. There were also sections scattered along the length of each table meant to be used for ingredient preparation. The whole thing gave the tables a very odd look, but Severus could see that it would be a lot more convenient than the usual setup.

A door in the back of the room proved to lead to the supply closet. If you could call an enormous room stocked with more ingredients than Severus had seen in his life a closet. All four walls were packed, and there were long, well-stocked cabinets in rows in the middle of the room. Best of all, everything was neatly labeled and wrapped in preservation and stasis spells, allowing them to remain at the peak of their usefulness more or less indefinitely. And due to the age of the castle, there were ingredients stocked that had become very rare or had died out completely over time.

Severus was hard put to keep from becoming giddy. Well, if Black became difficult, he would have no difficulty at all staying down here until summer's end, that was for certain. His mind was already racing with ideas for experimentation. He finally got himself back in hand and unpacked his private supplies, which now looked rather pathetic and paltry in comparison to the treasure trove before him. Eventually, it was dinnertime, and Severus called for Mallie.

"Is dinner taking place in the dining room, or elsewhere?" He asked once she'd popped in.

"It bes taking place in the dining room, Master Snape sir. Master Remus is saying it bes better with so many here now."

Severus gave a nod of agreement and headed out of the potions lab and up the stairs. He followed the racket the twins were making to the family dining room. The others were already in residence, though they apparently hadn't been in the room long, as they were all standing, talking animatedly about whatever they'd been up to outside. The twins broke off and all but bounced over to Severus.

"This place is wicked, Professor." Fred said.

"Ronniekins will be green with jealousy." George said. "I mean, we have our own quidditch pitch. With hoops and everything."

"Neville's going to go bonkers over the plants." Fred said, grinning. "There's enough here to keep him busy the rest of his life."

Severus gave an amused snort, as Fred was entirely correct. "Harry mentioned there were four greenhouses of plants with uses in potions. I will want a full list from the two of you in a week's time. Use the reference books in my library ... or I imagine there are some in the castle library ... to identify any plants you don't already know." He would be doing his own inventory, of course, but he wanted the twins to begin the admittedly long, tedious process of learning the appearance and name of as many ingredients, both plant and animal, as possible.

"Speaking of assignments, we need to figure out what all we're going to be doing, aside from the obvious." Remus said.

Severus nodded in agreement as he took a seat at the table, putting one twin on either side of himself to make it a touch more difficult for them to plot and pull something off. "That would be wise, especially since there is so much to be done."

"First on the list is a long stop at Gringotts." Sirius said, looking at Remus as if he was only addressing him, so as to keep from antagonizing Severus. "Harry said something a while back about a vault that Hogwarts has, that books and the like get pulled into if someone tries to remove them for a reason other than them being in irreparable condition. Between that, the library here and the Black library, we're bound to find something on how Voldemort kept himself alive."

"And something on how to get rid of the Marks." Harry said. "Hopefully quickly and easily." He did not at all like the fact that Severus was in real danger of torture and death if Voldemort managed to get a body back before they got rid of the Mark.

Sirius glanced over at Harry and nodded. Right about then the food appeared on the table, and everyone paused to load their plates.

"I will require time to teach the children occlumency. Harry especially." Severus said. Like Sirius, he addressed Remus like he was the only other adult in the room. It wasn't a good solution for the long term, but it was working in the short term to keep the two men from ripping into each other verbally. "Dumbledore and Voldemort both are Legilimens, and he will need to learn to guard his mind from them. Given that the others are much in his company and learn pretty much everything Harry knows, it would be best if they all learned it to protect both themselves and him."

"Good point." Remus admitted. "So we definitely have to put that on the schedule. Plus lessons with Minerva and Filius, and Harry's etiquette and protocol lessons with Madame Longbottom. And Charlie has made a case for us to come to the dragon preserve. Which I will admit, I sort of want to do. He's been over the moon for months over the progress they're making with the dragons, and I think it would be interesting to see it, and a fun vacation"

"And the Wizengamot sessions, which, thankfully, are only once a week, otherwise we'd have a problem on our hands." Sirius piped up. "Plus the kids need time to do their homework and just goof off. And the twins will be working with Snape. And we'll have meetings with our allies to plan our next moves. And the adults will be running interference with the Death Eaters."

"So ... busy summer." Fred said with a grin. "Best kind!"

Eventually, dinner was over and Severus headed for his room, not at all inclined to socialize with Sirius or Remus. Of course, that was when Lily showed up. He'd barely closed his door when her voice filled the room, making him flinch and fight the urge to hunch his shoulders. Despite the letter, some part of him still expected her to be pissed off and repudiate him. Again.

"Severus. It's good to see you." She said quietly. Then. "Oh, Severus. I'm not going to bite or yell. I promise. Come over by the bed, will you?"

It took Severus a minute to do as she asked, and he still refused to look at the portrait she was standing in.

"Severus ... " Lily said, sounding somewhere between amused and exasperated. "The letter wasn't a setup."

That finally brought his head up, because how could she know he'd been entertaining that notion, somewhere in the back of his mind? And there she was, leaning against an odd statue that was in the portrait with her, giving him a sad smile. Severus swallowed hard as he looked at a picture of Lily that had the same fire in the eyes Lily had had in life.

Wizarding photographs didn't have quite the same quality as portraits did. Actions taken in photographs were similar to what was being done when the picture was taken. A snowball fight would continue, with myriad variations, people would smile and wave in various ways, et cetera. However, the persons pictured could not speak and there was no personality transfer at all. So while Severus had wizarding pictures of Lily ... they hadn't truly 'been' her.

He had loved this woman. And always would, even if he'd go to his death before admitting as much. And it both hurt beyond the telling of it ... and felt incredibly good ... to have something that wasn't quite Lily but was damn close.

Lily, evidently, was well aware of at least some of his train of thought, because she smiled at him. "I know you, Severus. You always were suspicious verging on paranoid. There was a time when that annoyed me a little ... because I didn't understand." She admitted. "My world ... well, I grew up in a rather different world than you did. I never had reason to learn to watch my back." She sighed. "I wish I had ... or barring that, that I'd had you around, that last year or two. We Gryffindors are ill suited to spotting or comprehending Machiavellian schemes."

She pushed off the statue and came closer. "And Severus? For whatever it's worth ... I'm so, so sorry. I hurt you when you needed my support most, and I don't think I'll ever really forgive myself for that." She flapped a hand. "Of course you had to learn to say that, to talk the way they did. They would have torn you to shreds otherwise ... probably literally." She snorted. "Your mother died that summer." Leaving him with Tobias, she didn't say, but didn't have to. "And those idiot boys pulled that stupid stunt. And the other stupid stunt on top of that, which I didn't find out about until later." Lily sighed. "Small wonder you lost your cool and your mouth got ahead of your brain for a moment. But I was a silly little girl and decided to stomp off in a snit like an idiot and leave you alone." She shook her head. "It was very ill done of me."

By the time she'd wound down, Severus had become inordinately interested in the weave of the quilt on his bed, unable to look at her. "Don't." He said, his voice raw. "I don't ... "

Lily snorted. "Severus ... I don't blame you for what happened to me." She said. "You didn't know it would bring him to my doorstep, and when you figured it out, you tried to protect me ... despite the fact we'd been estranged for years, at that point. And honestly, Severus ... given everything we've learned or suspected ... do you really still think those events were solely your actions?"

That snapped Severus' head up, because no, he hadn't really considered that, as he'd been entirely too busy grieving Lily's loss and castigating himself for being the one responsible for her death to stop and think. "Do not ... " He started.

"Severus, think. The interview was in a bar. Why? When he had Hogwarts at his disposal and there was a war on ... why did he choose to meet with Trelawney at the Hog's Head, of all places? A place that was, and I'm betting still is, known for playing host to a somewhat disreputable clientele."

"Dumbledore couldn't have known ... " Severus started.

"True, he had no way of knowing if Trelawney would spout off, or what she'd say if she did, but that doesn't excuse meeting her there, where there had to have been more than one unfriendly pair of eyes and ears ready to report anything of interest they heard or saw."

Damnit, Severus had always hated it when Lily had a valid point that he'd somehow missed. It hadn't happened often in their childhood days, but it had happened a few times, and had annoyed him greatly each time. This time, the annoyance was greater, and accompanied by a painful pang. "You have a point."

Lily laughed. "I see some things haven't changed ... you still get that constipated look on your face when I manage to outthink you." She said. "Don't feel bad about this one, Sev." Hearing his nickname again made Severus twitch. "I don't imagine you were at your best when everything was happening. And I had most of a year of peace and quiet to sit and think."

"On a somewhat similar subject, Harry told me about the Mark." Lily said, frowning a little. "We'll get that dealt with. We've got some pretty ... spectacular minds, among the portraits." And even as a portrait, Lily was looking forward to when Severus found out there was a portrait of the Founders here. "Not to mention a heck of a library. With any luck, that damn thing will be gone before school starts again. And then you can give Dumbledore a message from me."

Severus couldn't quite stop the bark of laughter at that, well aware that Lily was probably boiling mad at Dumbledore. "It's too bad you can't deliver the message yourself." He said. "It would be most entertaining."

"Agreed, but my portrait can't be brought into the school without risking it having to stay there permanently, and there's no way in hell Dumbledore will ever be permitted inside the Castle wards. So this will have to do." She smiled at Severus. "I have missed you, my friend. I'm very, very glad you're here."

Severus reached over and touched the frame of the painting she was in. "It's incredibly good to have you around again, in whatever form, Lily. I have missed you." Which was pretty much the understatement of the century, but there you go.

"And I've missed you." Lily agreed, then grinned. "Now, I've missed out on an incredible amount of gossip and news. I remember that you got your Master's parchments a little before ... well, before. What have you been up to since then?"

Out in the main room, Remus, Sirius, Harry, the twins, Hedwig and Hissesh had gathered in the spot Remus, Sirius, and Harry usually used as their hanging-out spot. The twins were chatting animatedly with James in his portrait, delighted to be able to talk to the third member of the Marauders. Meanwhile, Remus, Sirius, and Harry had pulled out the boxes of mail to work on a little bit. Hissesh was curled up under the nearest table, so as to be mostly out from underfoot while still being able to hang out, and Hedwig was perched on the back of the couch right behind Harry.

"Looks like we're making progress finally." Harry said, eyeing the boxes. They'd been working on this since early in the school year last year, but there was ten years of mail to be dealt with, which was a lot. Especially since Remus and Sirius had been reduced to sending packets of sorted mail to Harry on weekends for him to sign. Still, there were fewer boxes than they'd started with. Quite a few less.

"Yeah. We might have this lot sorted by the end of summer, if we're lucky. Depends on how frantic things get." Sirius said. "At worst, it'll be done by next summer." Then he glanced over at Harry. "We going to tell them about ... " He nodded his head towards the portraits.

It took Harry a minute to figure out what Sirius was on about, but then he got it. And considered. "Yeah ... I think we should. Snape at least. The others once he says they can guard their minds enough. I've been lucky that Dumbledore hasn't tried to corner me and pull something questionable."

/Not lucky so much as him knowing full good and well the sort of damage a pissed off familiar can and will do to anyone who hurts their wizard./ Hedwig pointed out.

Harry laughed. "You have a point, Hedwig. Especially as you've made it rather blatantly clear you kind of want to tear his eyes out of his head over the last year."

"Tell us what?" The twins said, in stereo.

"Can't say, for now. Not until you learn occlumency. Dumbledore may not want to risk Hedwig's wrath by messing with me, but you guys don't have the same protection." Harry told them.

"No. We just have mum." Fred said, grinning widely. "She's every bit as bad as Hedwig. She'd happily vivisect Dumbledore if he messed with any of us kids."

"Plus." George pointed out. "We're Snape's apprentices, and Dumbledore knows it."

"And Dumbledore is smart enough to not want to piss Snape off." Sirius said. "At least, not any worse than he already is. Pissing off any potions master is a rather ugly way to commit suicide. Pissing off Snape ... that's worse."

Harry cocked his head sideways. "You know, when you put it like that ... none of us are all that vulnerable really. Hermione has Crookshanks, and Neville has his gran, who's apparently on the warpath as bad as your mum." He glanced over at Sirius and Remus. "Maybe we can tell them."

"Tomorrow, cub." Remus said. "I don't think Severus is going to be coming out of his room anytime tonight. Lily went in to talk to him."

Harry nodded. "Right, so, tomorrow." Then he grinned. "Ought to be fun."

Fred and George shared a look. "You know, the last time he pulled a prank ... " Fred started.

"He got the entire wizarding world in general, Hogwarts and Dumbledore in particular." George finished.

The pair of them turned to look at Harry, anticipatory grins on their faces. "This is going to be good, isn't it?" They asked, again in stereo.

"Oh yeah. It's good." Harry said with a grin. "You're going to love it."

That made the twins grin hugely and bounce in place. "Right. Breakfast?" It was less a question and more a demand.

"Breakfast." Harry promised. "Provided you can drag Severus to it."

"Consider it done." Fred said, and then the twins went back to talking to James.

Harry reached up behind him to stroke Hedwig. /I'm looking forward to their faces./ He admitted.

/You're not the only one. Ought to be rather hilarious./ Hedwig told him. /Ohhhh, just there. That spot's been itching all day!/

Harry increased his scratching. /You should have told me about that, silly./ He scolded gently. As he scratched, his fingers found something. /Ahhh, I think I found the problem. Dead feather that got caught in the others instead of falling free./ He worked the feather free of the others and set it in his lap. /That better?/

/Much. Thank you./ Hedwig nibbled at Harry's hair, grooming it in thanks.

After allowing Hedwig to groom him for a few more moments, Harry sat forward again and went back to helping with the mail. A few minutes later, the twins joined them, and Hissesh slithered out from under the table to drape himself over Harry's feet. Harry reached down to pat him, grinning at the blatant attention-seeking.

[[You warm enough, Hissesh?]] He asked.

[[Yes. It is quite nice here.]] Hissesh said. [[Much quieter.]]

Harry cocked his head. [[School got a bit much for you?]] He asked. [[You could stay here come fall, if you want. I'm sure Remus and Sirius won't mind.]]

Hissesh gave a wordless hiss of negation, then [[No. I will stay with you, Harry. The school may be a bit hectic, but not that much.]]

[[As long as you're sure.]] Harry said, then shot a glance at Sirius and Remus. While both men knew he could talk to snakes, neither of them had all that much exposure to Harry doing it, and Harry was still a bit twitchy about them accepting him. A lifetime with the Dursleys did not incline him to trust in their continued acceptance of him. Some part of him fully expected them to denounce him as a freak at some point.

Of course, neither Remus nor Sirius was about to do that, and had, in point of fact, barely even acknowledged that Harry's been talking to Hissesh, as they'd both been busy with the mail.

/They are not cruel and fickle like the Durselys, Harry-chick/ Hedwig pointed out. /Neither of them cares that you can talk to Hissesh./

/I know./ Harry said with a purely mental sigh. /Doesn't stop me from worrying about it, though./


	2. Gringotts

Gringotts

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 2, 1992 Potter Castle and Gringotts

Harry figured he could be forgiven for waking at the crack of dawn. Especially given the day's plan. Doubly especially the plan for breakast. He was looking forward to that probably more than was healthy. Evidently the whole pranking thing actually was genetic ... or catching, and he got infected by Sirius, one of the two.

And obviously, he wasn't the only one looking forward to this, because when he stumbled out of his room, Sirius was already in the family room, looking a bit bleary-eyed but also anticipatory ... and so were the twins. Which Harry found hilarious because they didn't even know what they were anticipating.

"No Hedwig?" Sirius asked, noticing the lack of owl on Harry's shoulder.

"She's still asleep." Harry admitted. "I didn't want to wake her."

"Fair enough, especially since it's only about five in the morning." Sirius said. "We may as well get some of the mail dealt with while we wait for a somewhat more normal hour. I don't know about the rest of you, but the idea of waking Snape up ... " Sirius trailed off.

The twins shuddered. "Not a comforting thought." Fred said.

"He's grumpy enough when he's woken on his own and gotten some tea in him." George agreed.

"What he'd be like rousted out of bed early, we'd rather not find out. Yet."

So the boxes were gotten out and the four of them sorted mail until they heard Remus moving about in his room about an hour and a half later. By then, both Hedwig and Hissesh had waken and come out to join the twins, Harry, and Sirius.

Remus laughed when he came out of his room and spotted them. "How long have you four been up?" He asked.

"Since about five for me." Harry admitted. "But these three were already out here by then."

Remus laughed again and shook his head, then headed for the bathroom.

Severus swept out of his room a few minutes later, and into the bathroom by his room, without so much as looking their way. Harry was amused to see that even his nightclothes were black. Severus seemed a bit less grumpy when he came back out of the bathroom, and also more awake. He gave the gathering in the far corner a jaundiced glare.

"And what." He demanded. "Have you two miscreants been up to, so early in the morning."

"Nothing, Professor." The twins chorused.

"Just helping Harry with his backlog of mail." Fred said.

Severus gave the two of them a long, suspicious look, then evidently decided that they were either sincere, or to let it drop for the moment. Just then Remus came out of the second bathroom.

"Good morning, Severus. Now we're all up, I think we'd best get breakfast. There are some things we need to talk over once we're all fully awake."

Severus turned on his heel and stalked for the stairs, clearly still not awake enough to pretend to be human. Harry stalled long enough for everyone else to get moving, then glanced over at his parents' portrait. James was the only one there at the moment ... Harry sort of figured that Lily had still been hanging out in Severus' room. From the sounds of things, they'd had a lot to talk about.

"Would you go find them, and ask them to head for the family dining room?" Harry asked his father.

"Sure thing, kiddo. And I'm going to be heading down there myself. Ought to be entertaining."

"James Potter, you leave Severus be." Lily demanded as she slid into their portrait. She also gave James a swat on the arm.

James pouted at her. "I have been! I didn't even try to talk to him yet! You can't blame me for wanting to see their reaction!"

Harry snickered. "You really can't, mum. It's going to be funny. I'm not even sure which of the three's going to be more entertaining."

Lily huffed, then glowered a bit before relenting. "I guess I can't." She agreed. "It isn't exactly the normal sort of news, is it? You'd better get going, Harry ... they're going to be waiting for you as it is."

Harry nodded and scurried off, an amused Hedwig flying in his wake.

Harry decided to wait until after everyone had eaten to break the news ... the last thing he needed was one of the three choking on a bite of food or something like that. Once they'd all eaten their fill, Severus sat back.

"Now, Mr. Potter, would you kindly tell us what you have on your mind? You've been twitching and staring all through breakfast."

Harry blinked, startled, then laughed. "All right."

He instantly had the twins' full attention. Sirius sat back in his own chair, cup in hand and near his mouth, probably to hide the grin Harry was fairly sure he was sporting.

"You guys remember when I told you about Hogwarts being alive and talking to me?" Harry asked. "Well ... I kind of didn't tell you the whole truth. There was a reason she picked me to start talking to. It turns out, I really am a Gryffindor. Literally. His heir, actually."

There was a long moment of silence from the twins and Severus, finally broken when the twins let out ear-splitting whoops and high-fived each other before collapsing in laughter. Severus seemed to content himself with a pained expression and pinching the bridge of his considerable nose.

"I should have suspected, as interested as the castle has been in your welfare." Severus groused. Then glared. "And explains much about your father."

"Actually, he didn't know." Harry said. "See, according to my ... sources ... Godric and Salazar were actually good friends. It was Salazar's son and namesake that was the nutter." Harry said. "Godric, Salazar, and Helena fought the idiot. Rowena'd died by then. The nutter was killing as many of the Founders' relatives as he could get his hands on, because he knew the castle was alive, and could be controlled ... at least back then, she's developed enough now that it's not true anymore ... by them and their heirs. Godric's eldest grandson, and the future heir to the Gryffindor name, faked his death, and with the help of Godric, Helena, and Salazar, he and his children were ... hidden. All evidence that Gryffindor had existed prior to Godric was wiped out, both in the magical world and the Muggle one, turning Godric into a guy who came out of nowhere and had no known heirs. It was Potter what'd been around since the dawn of time, and all that."

"Which deprived Salazar's son and his descendants of a target, and kept one of the other Founder lines alive to protect Hogwarts, if it became necessary." Severus said, as if he'd put the pieces together. "But if your father did not know, then somewhere along the line, the knowledge was lost to the Potters. The question becomes, how did you discover it, and why did Hogwarts not speak to your father."

"Well, she didn't talk to him because she'd fallen asleep." Harry said. "After a while, people forgot that she was sentient, and started treating her like just a normal building. With no one to interact with, she just ... dozed off. She knew there were heirs in the school, but she'd given up on trying to contact them. It was only when I walked in, wearing the Head of House ring that she tried again, as the ring is evidently linked to Hogwarts somehow."

Harry glanced at the nearest portrait, which was, at least for the moment, devoid of any people, then back over to Severus and the twins. "It also means we have access to ... well, a lot of information. From what I've been able to figure out, the library here, and what's in the Potter Vault, goes back ... well, a really, really long time. Maybe as long as there's been the written word, even, as I saw more than a few scrolls in the vault that did not look like they were made of parchment."

Severus was not, by any means, slow on the uptake. "Which means the chances of finding a solution for getting rid of the Mark is that much greater. Especially when combined with the persons in the various portraits here. Lily ... " There was the slightest hesitation and catch in his voice when Severus said her name. "Said something about having some spectacular minds here."

"You could say that, lad." And amused-sounding Godric said from the portrait Harry had glanced at a few moments before. "You could definitely say that."

Severus blinked at the portrait for half a second, then nodded respectfully. "Godric Gryffindor, I presume?"

"Indeed lad. And I think you might know my companions as well." And then the other three Founders walked into the portrait.

Severus nodded respectfully again. By then, the twins had managed to pick themselves up off the floor and quit laughing, though they hadn't been able to stop grinning like fiends yet. They both echoed Severus' nod, eyes glittering.

"Can we come to Gringotts with you?" Fred asked.

"Dunno if we can actually go in the Hogwarts vault, but even seeing it from outside would be brilliant." George said.

"Actually, as students of the school, you'll be able to enter." Godric said. "Especially in the presence of an heir ... or the Headmaster, but since there technically isn't one at the moment, according to Sirius and Remus ... "

That made the twins start laughing again. "We had such fun pranking him." Fred said.

"We even left some stuff with the bravest of the house-elves, to continue our work for us until we get back." George told them.

"No rest for the wicked, as they say. And he's definitely wicked." Fred said.

Godric shook his head in amusement and glanced over at Salazar. "I do believe I agree with Sirius ... the Hat clearly went senile sometime in the last thousand years. The pranksters used to all go to your House."

"I told you the Hat was a bad idea." Salazar grumped, though from the twitching at the corners of his mouth he wasn't anywhere near as grumpy as he sounded. "But no, you had to decide an idea you came up with in a drunken stupor was a good one and carry through with it. I'm not entirely sure you were actually sober when you started the enchantments. It would explain so much."

"Like you had any better of an idea?" Godric asked. The grin on his face was a bit more blatant than Salazar's.

"Boys, don't make us break you up." Helga said, with the weary air of someone who's said something along those lines very frequently.

"Taking away all our fun, Helga?" Godric asked.

"Saving what remains of our sanity." Helga said. "Someone has to keep you two in line, or you'd end up pranking the whole of the world, left to your own devices. Boys." The last word was accompanied by a half-annoyed hand-wave.

The twins and Harry were laughing by that point, thoroughly amused at seeing the Founders act like they were 'real people', rather than the venerable, wise stick-in-the-muds they were frequently portrayed as in history books.

Eventually, they got themselves straightened out and cleaned up and ready to head for Diagon Alley and Gringotts. Sirius grabbed the library ledger, so they could snap up any books not already in the castle's library.

Their arrival at Gringotts turned quite a few heads. Not that Harry really blamed anyone. He and Sirius were in semi-formal robes bearing their family crests, and Remus was wearing his 'servant's robes' with the Black crest on them, since they were going to be out and about among potentially unfriendly people. Especially where Remus was concerned. Harry frowned. He rather strongly suspected that Sirius planned to abolish the anti-werewolf laws at the first opportunity ... and Harry hoped to be able to help with that, because it was horrifically unfair to people like Remus, whose only sin was to have been victimized by an out-of-control monster.

Severus was wearing his normal black ... with one small difference. On the breast, where a family crest would otherwise go, there was a crest that proclaimed Severus' status as a Potion Master, a gold cauldron (with stirring implement visible) with curls of smoke rising from it, above a crossed wand and knife. The twins were wearing new robes that Severus had purchased for them shortly after they officially became his apprentices, bearing the crest that marked them as such, a bronze cauldron.

As with Remus, being Severus' apprentices gave the Weasley twins a certain amount of protection, as a Master had primary responsibility for his apprentices. If the twins did something wrong, their punishment was decided by Severus, not the victim or any judiciary body the victim might bring their complaint to.

**Not that that ought to comfort the twins** Harry thought. **Because Severus is a right devious bastard, and any punishment he'd cook up would doubtlessly make them long for Azkaban as a more lenient punishment**

At any rate, their group of six moving together like that, drew a lot of eyes as they walked through the Alley and into Gringotts itself.

The first hint of something odd going on that they got was when a goblin approached them, rather than them having to head for one of the lines.

"Zartank will see you now. Follow me please."

They all exchanged looks before Sirius shrugged and followed the goblin to Zartank's office.

Harry wasn't entirely sure, but he got the feeling that Zartank was pleased to see the lot of them. Certainly, he was prepared for all of them, as there were six chairs in his office.

"I apologize for redirecting you, as I am sure you had other business to attend to here, but there was something I had need to speak with you of." Zartank told them. "Something that could not be spoken of before now, as the danger was too great."

That had all of them looking at each other in alarm. Severus eyed Zartank suspiciously. "Of what do you speak?" He demanded.

"Prophecy, gentlemen." Zartank said, ignoring the flinch the word got from Severus and Harry both. "Not all prophecies are incomprehensible muck. There were, in fact, two prophecies made about Harry. One by Sybill Trelawney ... and one by her ancestress, the far more reliable Cassandra Trelawney. And where Sybill spoke in riddles, Cassandra was far more clear. Sybill left only 'this kid can defeat Voldemort' behind, more or less. Cassandra's prophecy told how to do it."

Well, that definitely got him their full attention. Zartank quoted the longer prophecy in full, then gave Harry an amused look. "It pleases me to see that you seem to have begun to assemble the Pack already." He said, then nodded towards Remus and Sirius. "The werewolf and dog." He pointed to the twins. "Mischief's Heirs." Then Severus. "The snake. Or so I have come to believe. The cat, I am sure, is McGonagall, and there is only one contender for Goblin's son ... Filius Flitwick, the only wizarding family to have goblin blood in their veins."

"Which leaves the fox, bear, tigress, and house elf." Severus said. Privately, he agreed with Zartank's interpretation of the prophecy. "And no clue whom they might be."

"My thought was they might be contemporaries of Mr. Potter." Zartank said. "Friends of his, or people who will become friends."

"Hermione and Neville!" Harry said. "I bet I even know which ones they are. Hermione's smart, like a fox."

"And Neville is solid like a bear." Remus said with a nod. "Which leaves only the tigress and the house elf a mystery. It even gives us a timeframe for when Voldemort will be defeated."

"But twenty-four years from now is a long time, Remus." Harry did not look at all happy about that idea.

"I believe the prophecy is counting from Voldemort's first rise to power." Zartank said. "Which would put his final defeat sometime during your fourteenth year."

"That makes sense ... that's when he'd be able to step up as Head of the Potter family." Sirius agreed. "When he'd have access to ... well, certain things that have been linked to the Black and Potter families for a very, very long time."

"You speak of the takeover ritual." Zartank said.

"Yeah. Among other things, but as bad as the wizarding world has gotten, I have a bad feeling it'll come down to the ritual." Sirius said. "We're not just dealing with Voldemort after all. We're dealing with Dumbledore too ... and the damage he's done."

"Very true." Zartank agreed.

"I think I even know what the 'power he knows not' is, now." Harry said. "It's Hogwarts. Somehow." He glanced at Sirius. "She likes me."

"You are Godric's Heir, you mean." Zartank said. "I am sorry we did not tell you before, but we were forbidden to speak of it unless the Potter we were talking to was aware of their ancestry."

That got him a few looks before the adults shrugged. A goblin would never even think of breaking an oath once it was given, and they knew that ... it was part of why goblins were used as the wizarding world's bankers, aside from their uncanny ability to turn a profit.

"You have access to things Voldemort doesn't. And he can't know you're an heir, not with the magic that was done to hide Godric's line." Remus said at length. "It's just a question of how, exactly, Hogwarts plays into things."

"Well, this makes checking out the Hogwarts vault that much more imperative." Sirius said. "For all we know, the answer is tucked away in there."

"What if Dumbledore figured it out?" Fred asked.

That made everyone look at him. "What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"It'd explain why he's being so ... well, him." Fred said. "If he suspected. As alluring as having one of the Founding Families under his sway must be ... having a Founding Family that also controls Hogwarts under his power ... "

Harry nodded. "Especially when he sort of seems to think of Hogwarts as his little kingdom. Mum and dad thought of that, once they'd hidden under the Fidelius and had time to think things out."

"And it explains his interest in and blatant favoritism of your father, as well." Severus said, looking more sour than usual. "Trying to curry favor with someone with that much potential power."

"Except James never fell for it, really." Sirius said. "Oh, he looked to Dumbledore as a leader, but never to the extent a lot of folks do. And then the whole mess with the second prophecy happened, and Harry more or less fell into his lap ... completely defenseless and entirely unknowing of who and what he was. And Dumbledore ran with it. Could have gotten away with it, too, if things had happened a little differently."

"He didn't seem to be showing any signs of worry that Harry knew about Hogwarts, though." George pointed out. "Even after Hogwarts herself started giving him hell."

"Probably because he thinks I'm still in the dark ... that I figured out about being a First Family, but not about Hogwarts. That and he probably doesn't have a clue that Hogwarts is sentient and acting on her own. That she's stripped him of his position, more or less, and that McGonagall is running things behind his back, now." Harry gave a bit of a grin at that. "After all, I'm just a little boy, and Hogwarts is just a building."

"Point." Sirius said.

"I will delay you no longer." Zartank said at that point. "Griphook will take you to whichever vaults you need to visit."

"Five of them." Sirius said. "The Black money vault, the Black and Potter valuables vaults, the Snape and Hogwarts vaults."

"Very well." Zartank waved his hand in an odd pattern, and a few moments later, Griphook arrived.

The six of them packed into two carts that had been linked together, and took off. Their first stop was at Severus' vault, which proved to be about the size of Harry's trust vault, and about as well-populated with galleons. Harry was impressed. He'd learned that Severus hadn't had much when he'd stepped foot into the wizarding world, so the money in the vault was what Severus had earned since he'd graduated. That it equaled what had been provided in Harry's trust vault (or nearly so) was a quiet testament to Severus' skill both at potions and at money husbandry.

Severus withdrew enough to cover the summers' probable expenses, and they headed for the Black money vault, which was of a size with the Potter money vault, and as well stocked with galleons. Sirius pulled out quite a sum, and then they headed for the other vaults. The first stop was the Black vault.

For the first time, Sirius spoke directly to Severus. "Snape, you and Remus come with me. This thing's up to the rafters in dark arts stuff, and I don't want to accidentally grab something malicious." And both men were better at identifying Dark Arts than Sirius was, as he'd eschewed anything to do with the Dark Arts other than kicking its metaphorical ass. "You kids stay out here, and do not come in the vault. Even think about it and I'll give you to him to deal with." Sirius jerked his head at Severus.

The three men disappeared into the vault, and came back out about fifteen minutes later, with only a few books in hand. Most of what had been in the vault had been too dangerous to take out.

"Remind me to talk to Zartank about either breaking the curses on that stuff or getting rid of it." Sirius told Griphook. "It's more or less useless otherwise."

Griphook nodded, and headed them to the Potter valuables vault. Here, everyone disembarked and headed in. The twins couldn't quite stop themselves from staring around them in disbelieving awe at first.

"Right, I've got the ledger here, so we can grab whatever stuff in here looks useful that we don't already have at the castle." Sirius said, pulling the ledger out of his pocket.

Everyone spread out, as the books and scrolls were scattered pretty much everywhere, and started calling out titles, where there were titles visible. Within ten minutes, they'd racked up over a dozen books and scrolls about a myriad of subjects that might be of use to them both in defeating Voldemort and dealing with Severus' Mark. There were others that might have something of use ... but they weren't being brought, because there were no titles, and it would take months, maybe years, to read through (and in some cases, translate) what was written to see if there was anything useful.

Then it was time to head for the Hogwarts vault. All of them were more than a little eager to see what it was like, what might be in there.

At first glance, it looked like one huge library, with dozens and dozens of bookcases, crammed full of books that had been bought for the school, then later 'removed' for whatever reason. There was also a huge rack of neatly stacked paintings that had been commissioned and then later removed.

It wasn't until they got to the very back of the large vault that they found the real treasure. Four podiums, done in House colors, each bearing a single book under so many protection and preservation spells it boggled the mind.

"What are they?" Harry wondered. "I mean, from the colors, probably something specific to the Founders ... but what, exactly?"

"Diaries, possibly." Severus guessed. "They may well have kept a record of their doings, their efforts to build Hogwarts and populate her with students."

"Hermione is going to go nuts." Harry said, sounding very amused. "But I think we can find out for sure what they are ... Godric mentioned that there was a portrait of them at the school at one time, but then it went missing. It had to have come here, unless an Heir removed it, and I think Hogwarts would have noticed that, and remembered it."

It took them a good ten minutes to find the missing portrait, near the bottom of one of the racks of portraits, evidence it had been 'removed' long ago, perhaps shortly after the last publicly known heir from one of the Houses had died childless, or some such. It was then attached, if briefly, to the wall of the vault so that the Founders in the portrait could waken and talk to them. This time, they all shielded themselves from the flash of light that accompanied a portrait waking up.

It took about a minute for this set of Founders to synch with the other portrait, which had been active the entire time the second portrait had been hidden and asleep, and then the Founders were grinning at them.

"Well, I see you've found the place." Godric said. "And yes, those four books are our diaries. Mine starts from about my mid-twenties ... a year or so after I met Salazar. He, being the anal retentive person that he is, kept a diary practically from the moment he could write. So did Rowena." The two Founders so named rolled their eyes at Godric. "Helga, like me, didn't start hers until after we met. Not everything is in the diaries ... there are some things we wanted to keep from prying eyes, like the exact details of what we did to bring Hogwarts to life. It was a complicated process, and one that required a lot of power. Not something for someone to try on the spur of the moment, which many would be tempted to do, if they had a detailed outline of what to do. That and how, exactly, Salazar tamed and trained Shassahshah, aside from the fact that he's a parselmouth helping matters, anyway. Again, not something we wanted to be public knowledge, if one of our heirs found these and decided to publish them."

"You may have noticed that the Potter valuables vault is ... somewhat thin of things, if the Potters are as old as we've said. The reason for that is that everything marked with the Gryffindor crest came here. Only things the Potters collected after the name change, or things that weren't marked with the crest, went into the Potter vault, since the Potter crest, while similar to the Gryffindor one, isn't identical, and the difference would have been noticed. And remarked upon." Rowena said.

"And made people suspicious." Harry said with a nod. "Fair enough. And I imagine all of your stuff came here, since you didn't have an heir when you died?"

"Quite correct." Rowena said. "And many of Helga's things, as well, as property rights for women were ... somewhat different, when we were alive, and this was the only way to ensure they would pass from heir to heir in her case. Every time the heir died, the things were returned here, and had to be retrieved by the next heir, if they wanted them. They could not be kept nor sold by the heir's husband."

"Clever." Sirius said, sounding admiring. "Right, so ... if there's something of use, it'll be here. All right gang ... go nuts."

Which is exactly what they did. They ended up spending the best part of three hours scouring the shelves and finding ... well, an incredible amount of useful information, all of it neatly labeled. Which they found odd until they asked the Founders about it and discovered that upon their appearance in the vault, all books and scrolls had a tag magically applied that detailed their contents, making it that much easier to find what you were looking for, considering there were tens of thousands of books and scrolls in the vault.

Better yet, they were divided into rough categories ... Transfiguration/Charms, Potions/Herbology/Care of Magical Creatures, Dark Arts/DADA, Arts/Crafts, which covered things like making statues, portraits, constructing buildings and such things, Spell Creation/Arithmancy, Warding/Cursebreaking, and a few other general topics. It made finding what they were looking for a lot easier, as they could head for the sections most likely to have what they needed, rather than having to wander the entire vault.

By the time they were done, they had enough books and scrolls to fill three trunks, which Remus and Severus had, thanks be, thought to bring with them. For now, the Founders' diaries stayed where they were ... while the information they contained was doubtlessly fascinating, it wasn't germane to their needs. There'd be another time to bring them out for reading.

Books obtained, they headed into Diagon Alley to make some purchases. In Harry's case, yet another wardrobe of clothing, as he'd finally stopped growing like the proverbial weed, and had caught up to where he was supposed to be. He'd be growing at a normal rate from here on out, so he didn't have to resort to having robes with seven or eight extra inches in the seams, or so it had seemed, when he'd been wearing the ones cut to keep up with his sped-up growing.

The twins also got some new clothes, high-quality robes made for brewing in, woven with heavy-duty protection spells designed to fend off most potion-related disasters. Severus almost started to stock up on an array of ingredients, before he reminded himself it was unnecessary. The Castle had more ingredients than he could possibly use in his lifetime, nevermind a single summer. Sirius and Remus got a few things for themselves, and then it was finally time to head home, just in time for dinner.

Fortunately, the elves had prepared a huge feast, as they'd all been so busy in the vaults they'd missed lunch, and everyone was starving as a consequence. Dinner was accomplished with next to no conversation as they filled their stomachs.

After that, they split up to kick back and relax, and Harry headed for his room so he could regale Hedwig and Hissesh with the day's adventures.

/Sounds like it was quite the day./ Hedwig said when Harry wound down. She was perched in his lap, enjoying a petting. /I could tell you were excited, but you weren't projecting anything my way, you brat./

"So I wanted it to be a surprise when we came back. Nothing wrong with that, is there?/

Hedwig harrumphed. /I suppose not./ She allowed.

"I wonder if we can all become Animagi?" Harry wondered aloud. "I mean, I know Remus can't, because of the werewolf thing, but the rest of us? McGonagall already is, so is Sirius. Maybe we can learn. I know the twins are dying to, so they can emulate their heros." He grinned. "I wonder what sort of snake Severus would become?"

[[A poisonous one.]] Hissesh opined. [[There is no way he's a nonvenomous breed, not with his personality]]

Harry laughed. "And it would fit with his thing for potions, too, since some potions are poisons. Ten galleons says it's something black, too."

[[Not taking that bet]] Hissesh said.

/Me either./ Hedwig said, sounding amused. /Though with our luck, he'd proceed to surprise us and become a garter snake, or some such innocuous creature/

Harry fell onto his back, laughing. "Oh man! I can just see his face, if he did!"


	3. Cruel Intentions

Cruel Intentions

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 3, 1992 Location Unknown

Barty lounged, as best he could, in his current hideout ... a Muggle hotel room. He found it extremely distasteful, but he was intelligent enough to know that his ... opponents ... would not think to look for him in the Muggle world. He was, after all, a pureblood who considered Muggles to be less than the dirt he scraped off his boots.

That said, this location was far less than satisfactory, and truth told, moving from location to location had become tiresome. He would be on the move enough, shortly, seeking his Lord. Having a more amenable base of operations was desirable, if for no other reason than his Lord required the best Barty had to offer, once he had been found and restored.

There was only one person amongst the offal he had to work with that he could even come close to trusting. Lucky for him, that person had the most ... appealing ... places to stay. And dare not refuse Barty, since he had the man firmly under his boot. He smiled as he summoned parchment, quill and ink to write the necessary missive. He wanted to tell Lucius this to his face. Entertainment was difficult to come by, and he would get it where he could.

A few minutes later, and an owl was winging its way to Malfoy Manor with the usual 'use this now' portkey. About a half hour after that, Lucius dropped into the room, then dropped the portkey.

"Ahhh, Lucius. A thought has occurred to me. This summer will be a busy one." Barty gave the man a smile he couldn't see from behind the mask that protected his identity. "And moving from meeting place to meeting place will swiftly become tiresome and cumbersome, as well as too time consuming. In addition, our Lord will require accommodations fit for his use once he is found and restored. A place from which to launch his glorious campaign. Which I have every faith will occur yet this summer. To that end, I have decided that you shall be my host for the summer."

There was the faintest tell-tale twitch at the corner of Lucius' eye that spoke to his displeasure. Barty smiled behind his mask, enjoying confounding the man. It was, after all, less than he deserved for denying their Lord.

"It would be my pleasure to host yourself and the Dark Lord, when that time comes. Though I request a few hours' grace. While my house-elves are diligent in their duties, none of the guest rooms are fully prepared for guests, as we seldom host guests overnight." Lucius said, his voice smooth and devoid of whatever emotions he had to be feeling.

Barty inclined his head. "Very well. I shall arrive in two hours." He told Lucius. "You may go."

Lucius wasted no time in apparating out of there.

Malfoy Manor

The moment he landed in the foyer of his own home, Lucius started cursing inventively, then pulled the mirror out of his pocket. "He is coming here!" Lucius barked, enraged.

Sirius' face appeared in the mirror. "Calm down, Lucius. Tell Draco to keep out of his way. To stay in his rooms as much as is humanly possible. Do as he asks. I'll tear the Black and Potter libraries apart looking for some way to fix this."

Lucius took a few deep breaths and calmed down, then nodded. "Very well." He tapped the mirror off, then summoned Dobby. "Dobby, go and tell Narcissa and Draco that I need to speak to them immediately." He said. "Then tell the other elves they are to gather here for orders."

Dobby bowed and popped out. It wasn't until after Dobby left that an idea hit Lucius that made him grin fiercely.

A few moments later, the foyer was playing host to five house-elves, his wife and his son. Lucius took a deep breath. Narcissa was not going to like this. At all.

"We are to have a guest for the summer." Lucius began, then looked steadily at Narcissa. "Barty." It took everything he had to not back away from the enraged expression on his wife's face. Draco inhaled sharply and began to shake. Lucius immediately closed the distance between them, ignoring his wife for the moment. He half-crouched so he was eye-to-eye with his son.

"Draco, you are to take Nippy and lock yourself in your rooms. You are not to come out for any reason ... even if I or your mother or one of the other elves asks it of you ... unless the elf asking is Dobby. Which I will explain in a moment." He turned to the house-elves. "Nippy, your sole from now on is Draco. You are to stay with him except to bring him food. You are to deny entrance to his rooms to everyone, Human, elf, or otherwise, even myself and Narcissa, except for Dobby. Obtain the food and drink you bring him from anywhere but this manor. If anyone other than Dobby attempts to force their way into Draco's room, you are to get him out of the Manor, then have Dobby escort the both of you to wherever Sirius Black and Harry Potter are. Do you understand?"

Nippy nodded. "Nippy does, Master. Nippy will bes taking care of Master Draco, she will!"

Lucius turned his attention to Dobby.

Dobby had always been an odd one, for his species. Willful, defiant ... independent. It had made dealing with him a trial. But now, Lucius had found a use for that strength of will and independence. He stripped off one of his gloves.

"Dobby, for you, I have the greatest task. You are to watch the guest that arrives here in the next couple hours at all times. You are not to be seen by him, ever. You are to report everything he says, everything he does, to either Harry Potter or Sirius Black after our guest goes to sleep each night. If they find a way to fix the spell Draco is under, you are to return here and take Draco and Nippy to them." He bit back a smile when Narcissa made a sudden noise of understanding. "To protect you, and us, and to give you the independence of movement you require for this task, I hereby give you clothes." He handed over the glove.

All the other house-elves flinched as if they'd been struck a mortal blow, but Dobby just went wide-eyed with glee as he took the glove and cradled it against his chest. "Dobby is doing as Master asks!" He avowed.

Lucius returned his attention to Draco. "We will fix this, and this will end. I swear that to you, son. In the meantime, stay strong, and know we love you."

Draco gave a shaky nod, and then hugged his father. Moments later, Narcissa joined them. After a few minutes, Draco pulled away, and, looking haunted, took Nippy's hand and disappeared.

Narcissa made a strangled noise that was equal parts rage and grief.

Lucius turned to the rest of the house elves. "The three of you will need to ready a room for our guest's use. Know this. He is not a friend. Do nothing to aid him without his express command. Tell him nothing. If he attempts to harm you or force you to harm yourselves, leave his presence instantly. He has no authority to punish you under any circumstances." He waited until he got grim-faced nods from the three remaining house-elves, then gave a nod himself. "Dismissed."

The three elves popped out. Only then did Lucius turn to Narcissa. "He will pay for this." Lucius told her. "By your hand." Because honestly, as angry as he was about this, he didn't have Narcissa's viciously inventive streak. That was a Black trait, and Lucius did not envy Barty one bit once Narcissa was able to get her claws in the bastard.

Narcissa nodded. "And in the meantime, you have done what you can to protect our son."

Because it was entirely possible for Barty to use the two of them against Draco in some way. Or just torment Draco by acting like he was going to activate the spell and make Draco suffer. He could still use the spell ... and unfortunately probably would, at some point, but Draco was effectively beyond his reach now ... even if he tried to force his way into Draco's rooms. It half-killed Narcissa that it was entirely possible Draco wouldn't survive the summer, but what else could they do?

Potter Manor

Harry and the twins spent the morning with Severus, learning the beginning precepts of Occlumency. It didn't start out all that well. Severus' first attempts at teaching them had basically been telling them to 'clear their minds' and 'stop thinking'. Which had resulted in him getting a trio of seriously confused looks.

Severus eyed them for a moment. Occlumency, like potions, came easily to him. It was rather obvious to him how it should be done. He had to remind himself that not everyone was as lucky, and he needed to remember to break it down to the level that had him going 'doesn't everyone know this?'.

That thought in mind, he tried again. "Occlumency is the art of hiding what you are thinking from prying eyes. But in order to hide your thoughts, you must first be aware of when someone is attempting to breach your mind. At this early stage, that requires your full attention be turned inwards, to your own minds."

At which point, Harry got it. At least a little. "So we have to quiet down, calm down, so we have a chance of telling when someone comes knocking." And a particular bit of Muggle trivia occurred to him. "So, basically, meditate?"

Thankfully, Severus, being a Muggle-raised halfblood, got the reference. "Yes." He agreed. "With time, you will not need to stop and meditate ... it will become instinctive and instantaneous to quiet your mind in preparation to hiding your thoughts. Occlumency cannot be performed if you are agitated and upset."

"What's meditating?" Fred wanted to know.

"It's ... hard to explain." Harry admitted. "But it's a Muggle thing. There are books that explain it ... they'd be fairly easy to get. We can do a quick trip yet today and get them." Honestly, Harry was sort of looking forward to introducing the twins to the Muggle world. It promised to be ... entertaining.

"Think we could bring our dad?" George wanted to know. "He loves Muggle stuff, but doesn't get much of a chance to learn much, you know?"

Harry glanced at Severus, then shrugged. "Maybe not this time, but I don't see any reason we can't take him on an outing at some point over the summer." He said.

At that point, there was a knock on the door, and Remus poked his head in. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a problem. Barty's setting up camp at Malfoy Manor."

Severus' mouth twitched. "Lucius will be able to handle it."

"That's what I said. Then Sirius reminded me who his wife was." Remus said.

That made Severus' mouth twitch again. "A valid point. We had best find a solution to their problem swiftly. Narcissa is not a forgiving woman. Fortunately, we are at something of an impasse on Occlumency for today. We need to arrange a short trip to a Muggle bookstore."

"What for?" Remus asked.

"Books on meditation, to explain the process of quieting one's mind, which is an essential step in Occlumency." Severus told him.

"Ahh, yes, that would be important. But a trip isn't needed. I have a few books on that subject among my personal things. I thought it might help." Remus said. It hadn't, but he wasn't going to go into that. "Harry, Fred and George are welcome to borrow them."

"Thanks, Remus." Harry said. "I'll let the twins have first crack at them. I want to see if I can find anything in the library to help with Draco." He knew Remus and Sirius had looked, but it was entirely possible that certain books could only be perused by a Potter. Or a Potter that knew the truth of his ancestry, for that matter.

"Good idea." Remus said, clearly thinking along the same lines.

They all headed out, the twins heading for Remus' room and his books on meditation, and Harry ... with Severus tagging along behind, headed for the library ledger.

"What was the name of that spell, again?" Harry asked as he opened the book.

"Vindico Quod Rectus." Severus told him.

Harry nodded, then opened the ledger, then wrote the name of the spell into the ledger. There was a brief green glow, informing him that there were, indeed, books that had that spell in them. "Hah, yeah, now let's see if they're all the same ones Remus and Sirius went through." Harry said, as they waited for the books to appear on the table next to the podium the ledger was on.

Within seconds, a full two dozen books had appeared.

"Well, that answers that. Sirius mentioned they only found four." Harry said.

It made a certain amount of sense. After all, that spell dated from back before the Gryffindor/Potter switcheroo by quite a bit, which would have put any of the books in the library that had been locked to 'Gryffindors only' in lockdown after the Potters lost the knowledge of their ancestry.

Harry turned to Severus. "Not that I mind, sir, but why are you ... ?"

"It had occurred to me to wonder how Barty knew of the spell." Severus said. "Given that all the oldest Families that might have access to information on that spell are fully accounted for among the Death Eaters aleady ... "

Harry got it. "You think he learned about it from Voldemort himself, whoever he is." Harry said. "And the only reason Voldemort would have to know of and use that spell ... "

"Would be in his Mark." Severus agreed. "It would explain much of how and why the Mark works the way it does."

"Which, given what we know of Voldemort's resources way back when ... which isn't much." Voldemort had rather successfully remained a mystery even to his own followers. Harry drummed his fingers on the table. "Where the hell did he find out about it? Like you said, the families that would have that information are accounted for, one way or the other. So he's at best a bastard of one of the old lines, or from a younger pureblood line. Which means no ready access to books with that sort of information in them. When did he start using them?"

"That, I cannot answer." Severus admitted. "I only know that he had been using the Mark for quite some time before I joined him. The only people that would have a chance of knowing are either dead, or disinclined to tell us what they know. The strongest suspect, however, is a Black." Severus said. "While there are a few other families old enough to have records of the spell, the Blacks would have had a far more complete record, including whatever attempts had been made over the years to defeat the spell. They would also have been the most willing to part with such information."

"Which means the answer, if we don't find it here, is very likely somewhere among the Black library." Harry said. "Sirius is going to love that. Black Manor gives him hives, at least according to him."

Severus snorted, but waved his wand at the books. "I suggest we get comfortable on the third floor. This will take some time."

"No kidding." Harry said, following behind Severus as he headed up the stairs.

Malfoy Manor

Barty arrived at the edge of the Malfoy Manor wards precisely two hours after Lucius left him. He was met, within seconds, by an obsequious house elf.

"Paddy is welcoming yous to Malfoy Manor. You is following Paddy, and Paddy will bring you to the Master and Mistress." The little elf said.

Barty followed it through the wards, across the lawn, and into the Manor. Lucius and Narcissa met him in the foyer, and Lucius escorted him to his room. It wasn't until after Lucius had left that it occurred to Barty that he'd not seen Draco. He thought about it for a minute, and then smiled.

"Well played, Lucius. Well played indeed. Perhaps you are not such a waste of space after all." He murmured.

He contemplated his options. He could torture the boy, but if he was not here for his parents to either hear or find out about it, it served little purpose. And killing the boy would enrage them. So he would leave Draco be for now. He was of no importance. Finding their Lord was what mattered. Once that had been accomplished, Barty would review his options, and perhaps seek the boy's location, to return him to his parents. **Though** Barty thought. **Not in as good condition as he is when I find him. Such treachery must be punished, after all.** It took but a moment to activate the spell. A minute later, he deactivated it.

After all, Lucius and Narcissa might not be able to hear their son's screams, but Draco needed to be reminded that no matter how far he ran, he couldn't hide, and that eventually, Barty would come for him.

HPHPHP

Draco had to move fast, to make his room as appealing as possible for a long-term stay. All his school gear, and his favorite books from the library were tucked away in his room, along with a selection of potions ingredients and a number of vials from the potions storage closet. He also had Nippy grab whatever she thought would be necessary. A half-hour later, they had everything they could think of that they'd need, and Draco locked them both into his room.

"Seal it." He told Nippy. "I don't dare. He might be able to get past anything based on my magic."

Nippy, grim-faced and determined, snapped her fingers several times in succession, then nodded. "We's be safe now, Master. Nobodies but Dobby is being able to gets to us."

Draco shivered. "Safe as we can be." He said. There was still the possibility of Barty just blowing out a wall or three to get to him if he figured out where Draco was. Well, aside from the other option. The one Draco had trained himself to not think about over the last six months.

Learning to live with the knowledge that he could be tortured or killed at any time by a capricious bastard had taken some rather inventive mental adjustments. Draco had quickly learned to not think about it, even tangentially, because doing so had a tendency of making him turn into a gibbering wreck. A state of affairs that was not to be borne. Despite everything, Draco had his pride, still. And Slytherin House was still a pit of vipers who leapt at any perceived weakness ... once Snape's back was turned, anyway. There were very few Slytherins who had the balls to risk tangling with Snape, even before he'd started openly siding with Potter, and had blatantly favored his House. Well, openly in Slytherin terms, anyway.

Thinking about the couple weeks after that particular bit of trivia had percolated through the House brought Draco a much-needed snicker of amusement. A few of the sixth and seventh years had decided that Snape siding with Potter meant he'd gone soft and was an easy target. To say they'd been duly informed of the error of that sort of thinking was to vastly understate the case. Draco had no idea what Snape had done to them, but they'd been remarkably quick to disappear whenever Snape came into the common room, and did everything in their power to avoid his notice, for good or ill. They also spent a lot of time in detentions, though what they had to do and who supervised them was a mystery. Draco had yet to decide if them being supervised by Filch or Snape was worse, given the reason for their punishment.

Nippy made herself a little nest in Draco's very large wardrobe, and curled up there to keep an eye on her charge and the ward that protected the both of them that she'd put up. Well, less of a ward, actually, and more a super-sized version of the protective shield house-elves could use to keep their masters from getting hit by unfriendly spells and falling debris, if they were permitted to fight alongside their masters. At any rate, as long as both she and Master Draco stayed alive, that shield would hold. It helped that she was still owned by a Malfoy, and they were on Malfoy property. While house-elves had their own magic, they could and did tap into the ambient magic of their masters' home, and even the excess magic their masters gave off, if the situation required it.

They'd both managed to relax somewhat when Nippy's connection to the house and its wards informed her of the arrival of their ... guest.

"He's being here, Master." She called softly.

Draco, who's settled on his bed with a book to read ... not that he'd had the concentration to read ... looked up and cursed quietly, his whole body going tense. When a few minutes went by, Draco started to relax.

Which, of course, was precisely when the pain hit.

Draco had heard, and read, descriptions of what the Cruciatus curse felt like. He had a feeling this was worse. It felt like lightning striking down his spine, spiking his limbs, making his muscles seize violently, making him jerk and thrash helplessly as he shrieked in agony.

He was vaguely aware of Nippy catapulting out of her nest to throw a spell at him. The use of which he discovered a few seconds later when a particularly bad spasm threatened to send him sliding off the bed, only for him to bounce off an invisible wall and back towards the center of the mattress. The corner of his mind not busy with writhing in agony managed **Well, at least I won't break my head open on the floor** before it got silenced by the pain.

And as fast as it started, it was over. Draco lay on the bed, panting and shaking, both from pain and fear, his entire body tense, waiting for another round. When one wasn't immediately forthcoming, he relaxed a bit, and allowed a thoroughly distressed Nippy to fuss over him and ply him with (much needed) pain potions.

"I'll be all right, Nippy. It wasn't that bad."

This time, anyway. The first time ... gods, that had been horrible. Not that he'd been aware of it at the time, but he'd evidently been held under the curse for about ten minutes before Barty had let it lapse. He'd been awake for about two of it, he was fairly sure, before Severus forced the anesthetic potion down his throat. He was glad he hadn't been awake for the rest of it. He was fairly sure that if he had been, he'dve ended up joining Longbottom's parents in St. Mungo's if he had been. He'd certainly hurt like he was dying when they finally woke him up, after.

Nippy patted him on the arm. "If you's being sure, Master." She said.

Draco managed to summon something like a smile for her. "I'm sure."

He could only hope this was the only time the bastard did that. Because he wasn't sure just how much of that he could take.

HPHPHP

After he'd had his ... entertainment ... Barty left the room he'd been given and headed off to find Lucius, whom he found in the library, perusing a history book. How very droll.

"Ahhh, Lucius. Your potion supplies are well-stocked." It wasn't a question.

"Of course." Lucius said.

Barty had the distinct impression that Lucius was grinding his teeth. He smirked behind his mask.

"I will require certain ingredients of you. There is a chance that a certain potion can aid us in locating our Lord." Barty said. It was a long shot, he was willing to admit, even if only to himself, but he had nothing better to go on, at the moment. And in this case, to attempt it and have it fail was better than to not attempt it.

"Ahh, yes. The Lost Soul potion. Though I doubt it will work. There cannot be that much left of our Lord to find." Lucius wasn't sure that potion would work on something that had been reduced to ... well, whatever the Dark Lord had been reduced to after trying to kill Potter.

"Perhaps not, but it is worth the attempt." Barty snapped sharply.

Lucius managed to convey a shrug without actually shrugging. "As you wish. The lab is in the basement, first door on your left. You'll find everything you need down there."

Barty nodded, and headed downstairs.

Hidden in the spaces between 'here' and 'there', a non-place that house-elves used when they did not wish to be detected, Dobby frowned in alarm. Master had told him to watch this one at all times, and to report when he slept.

But this ... was important. And the bad man would be done before dark. He would also be very busy for the next hour or so, in the lab. Now, Dobby began to understand why Master had set him free. He needed to be able to defy orders, if the need came up.

He turned his attention outward, seeking Harry Potter's magical signature. House elves constantly traded information about magical signatures, since they could and frequently were requested to go somewhere and find someone they'd never met before. Magical signatures were unique, and could be tracked long distances, if one were a house-elf.

Ahhh, there. Surrounded by heavy wards, too. What surprised him is that there was house-elf magic woven into the wards. How that had been done, he hadn't the faintest notion, but if he was reading them right, he was going to have to pop just outside the wards. He was fairly sure the wards would toss him out if he tried to pop through them.

Dobby popped to just outside the wards, and 'pushed' at them with his magic, knowing the house-elves would sense it. Sure enough, a few moments later, an elderly house-elf popped into view just on the other side of the wards.

"What is yous wanting?" He (Dobby could tell it was male) asked.

"I is being asked by my master to spy on a bad man." Dobby said. "And then tells Harry Potter sir or Sirius Black sir what I sees the bad man do, and what the bad man says. Bad man does something very bad, that the great Harry Potter sir must knows about right away."

The elderly elf eyed him for a moment, then nodded. "I gets Master." He said, then popped away.

HPHPHP

Toker popped into the room just a foot or two away from Harry, who was deep into one of the books he'd gotten from the library.

"Master Harry sir? There bes a house-elf outside the wards. He bes wanting to talk to you." Toker told him.

"A house elf? Talk to me?" Harry repeated. "Who is it? And who sent him?"

"He bes a Malfoy elf, sir. Or was, until recently. He still has their magics on him." Toker told him.

That made Severus, who was sitting nearby glance up sharply. "Still has?" He demanded.

"He is being free now, Master Snape." Toker told him.

That made Severus frown. "Why on earth?"

"Elf is saying he is being told to watch bad man, and tells Master what hes be doing and saying." Toker said.

That cleared Severus' expression. "Ahhh, that explains it then. He'd need to be able to act far more independently than still being owned and having to depend on a master's orders would permit."

Harry had already marked his place in the book, and was getting to his feet. "Well, if Lucius sicced this elf on Barty and told him to watch him and report, I'm all for seeing what he's up to that has this elf here so soon after the guy arrived at Malfoy Manor."

"Quite." Severus agreed, marking his place in his own book and rising to his feet. "We should not keep him waiting."

"I takes you both." Toker said, then took their hands and popped them out to where the elf was waiting.

Harry frowned a little when he saw the elf, and the pitable condition of its garment, then forced his expression back to something pleasant as he walked close to the edge of the wards. "Hello there. What's your name?"

Dobby took a great, quivery breath, like he was halfway to crying or something, but managed to get hold of himself. "I is Dobby, Harry Potter sir." He said. "Master Lucius is telling Dobby to watch the bad man that comes to the Manor. Dobby is remembering what he says, and what he does, and is telling Harry Potter sir or Sirius Black sir. And the bad man is being very, very bad, so Dobby had to come, to warn you."

"What's he doing, then?" Harry wanted to know.

"He is making a potion, sir. One that cans find anybody. It bes called the Lost Soul potion. He is being able to track ... " Dobby gulped. "Master's master, once it bes done. Theys finds him yet tonight, if it works!"

Harry grimaced. That was definitely not good news. "I wonder why he's not used it before now?" He asked aloud.

"Probably too busy consolidating his position among the Death Eaters." Severus said. "Getting them to look to him as leader would take some time, and they would contest his suggestions until that time."

Harry nodded, then frowned. "Hey, how did you find me?" He wanted to know. Yes, Potter Manor was known to folks, but it wasn't common knowledge that Harry was living there.

"I's be following yous magic, Harry Potter sir. Nobodys' magics be the same, sir." Dobby said.

Harry glanced at Severus, then looked at Dobby. "Dobby ... do you know who the bad man at Malfoy Manor is? He's not told anyone his name."

"But he has, sir! Hes be telling Master Lucius sir in his letter, when he tells Master sir he is doing bad things to Master Draco."

Harry's eyes went wide. "So he really is Barty Crouch Junior?"

"Yes, Harry Potter sir."

Severus glared at thin air for a moment. "How is that possible. He died in Azkaban."

"Thank you for telling us, Dobby." Harry said, then looked at Severus. "Is there anything that can be done to ruin the potion?"

Severus immediately shook his head. "Not without Dobby making his presence known. The potion has to be tended the entire time it's brewing. There's no long period of time when you can leave the room while it simmers, or any such." He looked down at Dobby. "If the potion works and gives them a location, return here immediately and tell us where." He told the elf.

Dobby nodded frantically. "Dobby will. Dobby goes back now." And he popped away.

"This ... is going to get ugly. Fast." Harry said.

"We need to tell the others." Severus agreed. "We might be able to thwart their reunion, even if we can't stop them finding out where Voldemort is."


	4. Revelations and Reunions

Revelations and Reunions

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 3, 1992 Various Locations

Malfoy Manor

Unaware of Dobby watching him, or the fact his enemies now knew who he was, Barty worked industriously in the basement potions lab.

The Lost Soul potion, despite its name, did not seek out a person's soul. It was just a name bestowed on the brew by an overly poetic creator. It had been created by a potions master many centuries prior, after their eldest daughter had been kidnapped. The spells of the day had been of no use in finding her. Indeed, even now, there were no spells that revealed a person's exact location, just their general direction, and even these could be confounded by other spells, particularly the Fidelius spell.

Polyjuice potion had been a fairly new invention at the time, and the potions master had been inspired by it. If it was possible to become someone else via adding a bit of someone to a potion, surely there was a way to find someone by similar means. It turned out they were right, though the breakthrough came too late for their own daughter, who was found dead two days after her kidnapping. The potion's master had not stopped working on the potion despite that, determined that no one else would have to suffer what they'd gone through. Barty supposed that under the circumstances, they were lucky the creator hadn't named it after their daughter.

Properly brewed, the Lost Soul potion produced a thick pale purple goop to which some bit of the person sought was added. Fingernails, hair, or the like were preferred, but the potion had been known to work when scrapings from a much-treasured belonging were added. The mixture was then spread thinly across a map or globe. The person's location would glow a bright purple. It was possible, provided you made enough of the potion, to spread it across increasingly detailed maps of increasingly smaller areas until you had a precise location, to within a matter of feet of the person you sought. Better, the potion couldn't be confounded by any spells Barty knew of, and would find the person, dead or alive, except in a couple cases where the body had been cremated to ash. It gave him hope the potion would be able to find his Lord.

Barty had been one of two people entrusted with something of the Dark Lord that could be used to find him, the other being Bellatrix. A small vial with a half-dozen hairs that Barty had managed to keep secret from everyone, even the other Death Eaters. The only question was whether or not the potion could find the Dark Lord in his current state, whatever that might be. Well, they would soon find out.

The trade off for a much-reduced brewing time compared to Polyjuice was the fact that the potion had to be tended to every moment of its six-hour brewing time, with constant additions and changes in stirring patterns and number of stirs. For the first time, Barty regretted the fact that Snape wasn't to be trusted, because the man could have done this potion in his sleep, just about. The man may have been a half-blood, and was very likely a traitor, but he'd had his uses. Barty couldn't afford to lose concentration for a moment, as he was nowhere near the brewer Snape was.

Potter Castle

Within ten minutes of Harry and Severus finding out what was going on at Malfoy Manor, the Castle was a beehive of activity. What seemed like half the Weasley clan was now in residence, along with Augusta and Neville. Cedrella and Sirius, being Blacks, had gone to Black Manor to raid the Black library for any books of use in breaking the Mark and/or the slave spell. Augusta and Neville had brought books from their own library, which, while not as old as the Potter and Black libraries, was still quite impressive and extensive. Septimus had brought what books the Weasley library had to offer, though he admitted that, thanks to the perpetual lack of funds the Weasleys faced through the centuries, their library was nowhere near as impressive as most pureblood libraries.

When Cedrella and Sirius returned, the books were pooled in the center of the formal dining room's table, and everyone gathered around to read what books they could, or take notes for those who had to read books due to limitations set on who could read the book. Harry was more than a little relieved when Bill, an experienced cursebreaker, plunked himself down beside Harry and started giving him pointers on what to look for in the books he was having to go through.

While they were scouring the books, the word had gone out to the Alliance that they were going to be attempting to thwart the Death Eaters far more openly than had been done thus far, and that, in all likelihood, the true makeup and leadership of the Alliance was going to be revealed, as there was simply no way that Dumbledore would ever have permitted the sort of fighting that was going to result if the Lost Soul potion was successful. Because there was no way in hell any of them were just going to sit back and let the Death Eaters get their hands on Voldemort, whatever state he was in, unchallenged.

With just an hour to go on the clock before the potion was ready, Sirius suddenly shot forward in his seat.

"I found it. I got it! Listen to this: Vindico Quod Rectus cannot be removed from the victim by any current means, nor by any means I have discovered were used in the past, save the death of the caster. The spell can, however, be transferred to a different controller, as it is the rare slave that stays with but one master. However, the transferal spell must be performed by the wand that applied the spell initially."

"So all we have to do is steal his wand." Remus said, looking pleased. "Which would be easy enough to do once he's asleep. We can ask Dobby to do it."

"But to whom would we transfer the spell?" Septimus wanted to know.

That's when Neville spoke up. "My parents." He said quietly. "They're alive, and physically in good health ... but they're never ... " He broke off, and Augusta gently gripped his shoulder, her own face strained.

"They will never be able to command or punish Draco." Augusta finished, her voice strained. "He would be able to live his life wholly normally."

"Could we attach the spell to someone who's dying?" Cedrella asked.

"No idea." Sirius said. "It doesn't say, and honestly, it's not really worth the risk ... they could end up taking Draco with them. I know that doesn't happen when the spell's been attached a while, but I wouldn't put it past the creator of this spell to make sure such a simple solution wouldn't work. Besides, we have no idea who might be dying there right now, nor do we have uncontested access to them. We've got access to the Longbottoms without stirring up unnecessary trouble. Besides, we can always steal his wand again later if we find out it can be transferred to someone who's dying. Right now we just want to get Draco out of his clutches."

Cedrella grimaced. "Point." She agreed. "The Longbottoms it is, then ... and thank you, Augusta, Neville, for being willing to volunteer them for this. I know it can't be easy."

"We need a second option, though, just in case the spell won't transfer due to their mental condition." Sirius said. "Again, because I wouldn't put it past the bastard that created the spell to have provided for something like that."

That had everyone looking at each other for a moment, trying to figure it out. "Narcissa." Cedrella said after a few moments. "The good knows she wouldn't torment her son, if it came to that. And if a direct relative can't be used ... " She sighed as she tried to think.

"Hagrid." Harry said after a few moments. "He'd never in a million years hurt Draco like that. Draco'd hate it, because he's not really a fan of Hagrid's, but it's the best option I can think of short of Hogwarts herself, and somehow I don't think the spell would work on a building, even if she is sentient."

"Ok, we've got our ducks in a row. I'm heading over to Black Manor. Not going to let Draco here unless he gives an oath." Sirius said. Considering that neither Narcissa nor Lucius had been inside Potter Castle, it wasn't like he was picking on Draco.

"I'll go with you. Someone will need to keep an eye on him tonight, whether he takes the oath or not." Cedrella said. "Especially since his mother will probably not be able to come with him." Then again, she ... and Lucius ... just might bolt for the hills once Draco was clear. You never knew.

Sirius nodded. "The help will be appreciated." He said. He wasn't looking forward to having to deal with the snobby brat, to be honest. Though it was entirely possible Draco had learned something over the last six months. Stranger things had been known to happen.

Sirius and Cedrella left, and the rest of them broke into smaller groups, talking quietly and eyeing the time repeatedly, waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Black Manor

As soon as Sirius and Cedrella were through the floo, Sirius called out for Dobby.

Dobby popped in instantly, eyes wide and ears perked up, clearly hopeful.

"We've got a solution to Draco's problem, but we won't be able to enact it until late tonight, when Barty is asleep." Sirius told him. "We will need you to steal his wand for us."

Dobby nodded determinedly. "Dobby cans be doing that, Master Black sir."

Sirius grinned. "So here's what's going to happen. As soon as Barty is asleep, you snitch his wand. Then you go find Narcissa and Lucius ... and tell them we can rescue Draco. If they want to come with, they're welcome to. Whether it's the three of them or just Draco, they're to be brought here, to Black Manor. NOT to Potter Castle. They'd get bounced off the wards there."

Dobby nodded again. "Dobby understands." He said.

"Once we've got the wand and Draco, we'll be making a field trip to St. Mungo's. And possibly Hogwarts, depending on whether or not the spell will attach to our first choice of person."

"Attach, Master Black sir?"

"Unfortunately, the spell can't be broken unless Barty is killed ... which is an exceedingly dangerous proposition, because he could potentially set off the spell if he sees his death coming." Sirius said. "But it can be transferred to a 'new owner' so to speak. We've got someone in mind to be the 'new owner'. It's someone who can't and won't hurt Draco." Sirius explained.

Dobby nodded his understanding. "Dobby goes back, now. Potion almost ready."

"Yeah, we know. Don't forget to let us know if it pinpoints a location ... and thank you for all your help." Sirius told the little guy.

Dobby turned about ten shades of red before he disappeared.

Cedrella huffed out a laugh. "Amusing little thing, isn't he?"

"Definitely." Sirius agreed. "And sorry to stick you here for a couple hours." He grimaced around the still filthy, dismal, depressing house. "Though who knows, maybe Kreacher will listen to you better than he does me. Oh, by the way, he's forbidden to leave the manor for any reason. So don't let him con you." Sirius said, then bellowed for Kreacher.

Kreacher showed up about two minutes later, shuffling in as slow as he dared, giving Sirius a death-glare and muttering under his breath ... or, well, maybe not so 'under', given that both Sirius and Cedrella could hear him clearly. His muttering didn't even slow down when he spotted Cedrella. But never let it be said that Cedrella wasn't a Black. She smiled at Kreacher. The sort of smile that makes anyone with sense back up a couple steps in fear, or at least anxiety.

"Kreacher. It has been so very long." Cedrella purred. "I've missed you so."

Kreacher looked ... horrified at this.

Cedrella drew closer, half-circling the elf. "I was so looking forward to returning to Black Manor, Kreacher. Truly, I was. It is a magnificent home." Then, her faux-sweet tone and faux-friendly smile changed abruptly. "Or it was." She snapped. "You were entrusted with a solemn duty, elf, and you have failed, utterly. This house is a disgrace to the name of Black! Our ancestors would weep to see the state of their home! How dare you! How DARE you defy your masters and ignore your duty?"

She whirled on Sirius, who couldn't quite prevent himself from taking a half-step back. "I am afraid we will have to house the Malfoy family elsewhere, Sirius. Black Manor is nowhere near being habitable, nevermind suitable for their needs."

Behind her, Kreacher made an agonized noise. Sirius, realizing what Cedrella was up to, played along. He sighed heavily. "You're right. I'll see to it one of the lesser Potter properties is prepared for their residence. The Potter elves, at least, know their duty."

Kreacher made another horrified, strangled noise. It took everything Sirius had to not fall over laughing. Insofar as Kreacher was concerned, Narcissa and Bellatrix were the only 'true' Blacks still living. To be told the Manor wasn't fit for their residence here, and that Potter elves would have the honor of attending them at another location, had to be giving the recalcitrant elf a heart attack.

"I suppose, in that case, it might be possible for Kreacher to be permitted to watch." Sirius said. "So that he might see how proper elves perform their duties, as he seems to require a refresher course on proper elf behavior."

That got a horrified shriek. "Kreacher clean, Kreacher clean!" Kreacher squalled, then started snapping his fingers so fast and hard Sirius was half-afraid he'd break his fingers.

"If, on the other hand, the Manor is presentable by the time they arrive, Kreacher perhaps can be permitted to serve, in a limited capacity. He has yet to earn my trust." Sirius finished. Then he focused on Cedrella. "I'll leave you to keep an eye on things, shall I?" Then he turned to Kreacher. "You may speak to Cedrella. You will follow her orders as if I have given them myself."

That got another wail from Kreacher, and a redoubling of his efforts to clean.

Cedrella nodded, smirking at Sirius over Kreacher's head. "I'll see what I can do."

Sirius nodded and left before he lost his composure. The moment he was back at Potter Castle, he collapsed into a chair in the Entance Parlor and howled with laughter, which brought several people running.

"What?" Harry demanded as he skidded to a halt just inside the room.

"Cedrella." Sirius managed between bursts of laughter. "Is magnificent."

"Not that I didn't already know that." Septimus said, coming up behind Harry with a smile. "But what did she do?"

"Kreacher." Sirius sputtered, then took a couple of deep breaths, trying to get his laughter under control. "She completely played him. He let the Manor go to rack and ruin. Which, really, I could care less ... I hate the place. Always have and always will. But he shouldn'tve let it go like that. She just played him like a fiddle. Mentioned the Malfoys, and said the Manor wasn't fit for their residence, so they'd have to go to a Potter property and be tended by Potter elves. You should have seen the look on his face ... and heard his reaction. I've never seen a house-elf move so fast in my life."

Septimus snickered. "That would get a house-elf right where they lived." He agreed. "Especially one with as low an opinion of certain other families as Kreacher has to have. I've heard tales about him from Cedrella."

"He is rather infamous." Sirius agreed. "Though, at least partially in his defense, he was my mother's personal elf. And Walburga ... "

Septimus waved a hand. "Enough said right there. I'm not all that much older than her."

"That must have been fun." Sirius said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Septimus snorted. "Oh, it was, trust me. Though I got out of the worst of it. Claudius was the same year as she was in Hogwarts." He said, referring to one of his younger brothers. "I have long had a sneaking suspicion that she was why he fled England when he graduated."

Which made Sirius laugh. "I wouldn't blame him a bit." He admitted.

Malfoy Manor

The potion was ready. Barty carefully spread a map of England out over an empty table. It was, perhaps, unwise to begin with such a small area, but Barty reasoned that his Lord had been on the island when he was ... disembodied. There was little reason to suppose his Lord had left the island. It would have been a simple enough matter to hide somewhere he could not be easily found, even in that fairly limited area.

Carefully, he began to decant the purple potion, spreading it thinly over the map. Once the entire map had been covered, he equally carefully settled the cauldron, which still held enough potion for several more tries, on the table, then turned to observe the map.

Slowly, the potion was absorbed by the parchment, disappearing as if he'd never spread the stuff on it. It took a minute for him to realize the absorption seemed to be occurring in a systematic manner. Despite the fact he'd started at the top (North) of the map, the bottom (South) edge was drying and disappearing first. Barty felt his heart flutter. Was it possible ... ? He barely breathed, staring at the map with renewed hope.

He could not restrain a slightly manic, hyper laugh when the northernmost half of Scotland started to glow purple. For one ... it meant his Lord had been located. For another ... that particular section of Scotland also played host to Hogwarts. Which meant his Lord could, potentially, be at the school. Barty wondered what Dumbledore would have to say about that, if it were true.

Quickly, he scrabbled through a collection of maps until he found a close-up of Scotland and shoved the larger map out of his way. Within a few minutes, he had the second map coated ... and glowing.

Specifically, the area around the town of Keith, which lay a little to the east of Hogwarts, which sat more or less in the middle of a rough V created by Elgin, Craigellachie and Keith. Keith sat on the far side of the Forbidden Forest, not that the Muggles knew the woods by that name, of course. Craigellachie lay to the south of Hogsmeade and the lake, while Elgin lay to the west and a bit north of Hogwarts.

They had little time to lose. Barty straightened and headed out of the potions lab to gather his Lord's troops, such as they were. It was time to return their Lord to his rightful place.

Town of Keith outskirts

Lord Voldemort snarled mentally as he drove the adder he'd forced to do his bidding to keep slithering. It had almost been two months since his exceedingly ignominous ... no, he refused to call it a defeat. He, Lord Voldemort, had not, and never would be, truly defeated. It had merely been a setback.

Still, it had been highly irritating, all the same. While the lure of the Philosopher's Stone had been strong, Voldemort had badly miscalculated in his plan. He had forgotten to figure the brats into the equation. He'd been so concentrated on the staff as the only true threat he'd forgotten that the brats could be every bit as dangerous, if in a different, less lethal way. Worse, he'd had to restrain himself from ordering Quirrell to hex the little bastards every time Quirrell got pranked. Dumbledore would have taken notice of his students being hexed like that, and Voldemort did not want that ruddy old goat to know he was there.

Worse, he had been forced to admit that Severus was not loyal to him. Oh, it wasn't as if Severus went around declaring himself Dumbledore's most fervent follower or anything so overt, but the signs were there. Severus' loss was a bitter blow. Even as little more than a boy a decade ago, Severus had been intelligent, competent, and capable ... traits that many of Lord Voldemort's followers had not possessed ... or at least, not all of them at the same time.

And then, to be forced to leave Hogwarts without his prize ... that had, indeed, been a bitter blow. He, however reluctantly, gave the staff their due. They had crafted a surprisingly effective series of traps. He would have to wring from them precisely what they had done, as such might be useful to his own defenses, and he had not encountered such things before.

It had taken him more than a month to recover from having to abandon Quirrell, and then the better part of two weeks to force one animal after another to march through the forest, heading for the coast, abandoning each one and finding another as their bodies gave out under the strain of hosting him. It would be a long trip to return to Albania, but that was the best place for him to truly recover from this setback.

From one moment to the next, the field he was crossing went from empty to ... very much over full with people.

HPHPHP

When Dobby popped in to tell them where Voldemort was, Sirius lost absolutely no time. Within two minutes, the entirety of the UK-based Alliance apparated into a field just on the outskirts of the little town. There were a few moments of confusion when there was no obvious Voldemort presence. They knew he had to be here somewhere, but where? Before they could do much more than that, Barty and the rest of the Death Eaters arrived.

There was a split second where nothing happened, where both sides stared at each other, tallying up numbers, and, in the case of the Death Eaters, recovering from the surprise of being ambushed. Sirius swore he could see apprehension in more than one pair of eyes as the Death Eaters realized they were rather badly outnumbered, at the moment. And then all hell broke loose, as spells started flying everywhere.

Sirius and Remus immediately, almost instinctively, went back-to-back, a decade's separation nowhere near long enough to overcome that habit when under fire. About ten feet away, the Weasley cadre, comprised of Septimus, Cedrella, Arthur and Bill were hammering one of the larger knots of Death Eaters. Unsurprisingly, Augusta had gone straight for Barty. She had an axe or two to grind with him, after all. Sirius just hoped that Barty didn't trigger the spell on Draco ... and that Augusta left Narcissa something to chew on.

Everywhere Sirius looked, the Alliance was doing its level best to annihilate the Death Eaters. Granted, they were not using Unforgivables, but there was some damn creative use of other spells going on. What surprised Sirius was Severus.

Severus ... well, hell. Severus might as well have been Death himself. Sirius saw him take down three Death Eaters inside of thirty seconds, and none of them was getting back up again. Not for the first time did Sirius find himself grateful the snarky bastard was on their team. Having to deal with him as an enemy would have been ... bad. To put it mildly.

And then, as abruptly as they arrived, a cry went up, and seconds later, they were gone, leaving the Alliance standing there, staring around in confusion.

"What the hell? Did they get ... was he even here?" Burke asked.

"Easy enough to find out. I'll call Dobby in about five, ten minutes. They'll have gotten themselves straightened out by then." Sirius said.

HPHPHP

It had taken Voldemort less than five seconds to realize the first group to arrive were not his followers, and were, therefore, a threat. He did not have time to contemplate how they were able to divine his whereabouts before the Death Eaters arrived and things got interesting.

Voldemort did at least try to participate, but it only took three attempts for him to realize that everyone he wanted dead seemed to be wearing dragonhide boots, which adder fangs had not a hope of penetrating. Nor was the adder's body long enough to reach above the level of the boots. He promptly took refuge under a rock, to keep from being trampled in the melee, waiting and watching.

Then he heard Barty's distinctive voice, yelling for the Death Eaters to 'find our lord'. To say Voldemort was pleased to hear that voice was to understate the case. Barty, alongside Severus and Abraxas, Lucius' father (and later Lucius himself), had been Voldemort's most valuable follower.

A few well-timed darts, and he'd reached Barty. He slithered up Barty's body, and there was a few moments' choas as Barty instinctively tried to be rid of him, probably thinking it was a spell effect. But then Voldemort reached his face. Where Barty could see the red, glowing eyes the adder was sporting.

It took him less than ten seconds to figure it out, and then he breathed and ecstatic "My Lord." before bellowing for the Death Eaters to withdraw and apparating to safety himself.

Once they had arrived at what Voldemort quickly divined was Malfoy Manor, Barty began barking orders, commanding that animals be brought for Voldemort to transfer into, as such was nearer to hand at the moment, and dispatching six of the least wounded to capture a wizard somewhere for Voldemort to use. That done, Barty headed for the basement to begin the month-long process of creating a homunculus, bringing the adder playing host to Voldemort with him, as well as two of Malfoy's prized white peacocks.

All without Voldemort having to even try to convey his requirements. This was why Barty was one of his more valuable followers. He knew how to get things done.

As Barty worked to get the potions for the homunculus started, he filled his Lord in on the events of the last decade, though his account ... lacked, somewhat, mostly because he only knew what the papers had reported and what he'd overheard the Death Eaters talking about since he'd gotten them back together again.

"The Potter brat is ... not quite what anyone expected, I do not think, my Lord." Barty said, when he finally got to that part of the report. "He has a familiar, a snowy owl. He is also a parselmouth, and has a snake, a large python by all reports. Somehow, he got Black freed." Barty wasn't real clear on the details of that, as most of the Death Eaters hadn't been there.

And, Voldemort knew, the Potter brat had been leading Dumbledore a merry dance. He still hadn't quite decided how to handle the brat, because Barty was right ... Potter was not what Voldemort had expected him to be.

Eventually, Barty had to put the cauldrons under a stasis charm, and held the door open for the peacock, which was lasting longer than the other animals Voldemort had used simply by dint of the fact that Voldemort wasn't driving it to the end of its endurance physically to get where he wanted to go, on top of the damage being done the animal's body by his possession of it.

HPHPHP

Two hours later, in the dead of night, long after Barty had fallen asleep, Dobby eased himself out of the non-place and tiptoed over to the nightstand where Barty had left his wand. A lightning-quick snatch and he was tucking his prize into the folds of his pillowcase, then disappearing back into the non-place.

He slipped towards Master and Mistress' room, and was pleased to find them both still awake, if only just.

"Master." Dobby called quietly as he appeared in the room. "Master Black is telling me to tells you he is finding a way to help Master Draco. That it bes done tonight."

Both Lucius and Narcissa gave whole-body quivers of relief before looking at each other, mentally tallying the options, pros and cons.

"We will stay." Narcissa said finally. "I am sure our Lord would not begrudge me vengeance." If only because Voldemort was a bit smarter than Barty, and knew exactly what sort of reputation the Black family had, and that it was entirely deserved.

Lucius nodded his agreement. "We may yet be of some use to Black." They were the closest thing to spies the Alliance had, since Severus was not going to be returning to the Death Eater fold. And if things got dicey, they could always escape via Dobby or another of their elves.

Dobby nodded firmly. "Dobby goes then, and takes Master Draco to safety." He said, and popped out.

Black Manor

Cedrella sat back on a chaise lounge, a goblet of wine in hand, and gazed around the Manor with a distinctly amused smirk.

Sirius had gotten most of the ground floor in marginally tolerable condition with the help of Jinks, but he'd left it at that, since no one was living there and he hated the place. It hadn't been worth the headache of fighting with Kreacher.

But now, thanks to Cedrella's manipulations, the ground floor, half the basement (where the kitchen was) and the first floor of bedrooms positively gleamed, like the place had never been allowed to go to ruin at all. Kreacher had been working nonstop, muttering under his breath. Though, for once, the muttering wasn't about halfbloods, muggle lovers, and traitors and how much he despised and hated them. No, it was a gleeful monologue about finally having a worthy Black to serve again, and how the manor had to be perfect for them.

It was about one in the morning when Kreacher popped into the room where Cedrella had ensconced herself, visibly vibrating with eagerness.

"Bad elf comes. Bad elf comes with good Master Draco sir." Kreacher rambled.

Cedrella put aside the goblet. "You will stand there, and not move, nor speak until given permission." She commanded, pointing at a spot off to one side. "If, and only if the Manor meets Draco's expectations, will you be permitted to serve him in any capacity, and even then, only as Sirius or I permit."

Kreacher shivered, eyes wide, but obeyed, standing where he'd been commanded to. A few moments later, Dobby, Nippy, Draco and a trunk full of Draco's belongings appeared a few feet away. Draco blinked at Cedrella for a moment in confusion.

"Sirius wasn't sure he'd be here when you arrived, due to the events of the evening." Cedrella told him. "So he asked me to be here in his stead." Cedrella told him.

Then she gave the boy a compassionate look. He looked ... not good. The last six months had clearly put a hell of a strain on him. He was thin, and paler even than his normal pale skin-tone, and visibly a bit ragged, now that he wasn't at school and having to put up a front of 'all is well' for his Housemates.

"I'll just floo him and let him know you're here, and then we'll head out to get that ... spell ... taken care of." Cedrella smiled at him. "And then your dear mother can have Barty's guts for garters like I know she's longing to."

That got a smile out of Draco, because yes, his mother would be having fun with Barty, the Dark Lord be damned.

Dobby stepped forward. "Here is being the wand that Master Black wanted." He said."

Cedrella took it. "Thank you, Dobby. You've been of inestimable help."

Dobby looked thoroughly pleased.

"What is your elf's name?" Cedrella asked.

"Nippy." Draco told her.

"Well, Nippy, the first room on the left up the stairs has been set aside for your master's use, so why don't you bring his trunk up there? And Draco, you can take a brief tour of the Manor while we wait for Sirius ... I don't believe you've ever been here."

Draco shook his head. "No ... Lord Black died before I was born, and Walburga stopped permitting visitors at that point."

"If anything does not meet your approval, let me know." Cedrella said. "It would seem that Kreacher here became ... lazy ... in the absence of direct orders."

Draco nodded, and headed for the stairs, shooting a trembling Kreacher a half-disgusted look. "Well, I'll not be allowing an elf dressed like that anywhere near me." He pointed out.

Given that Kreacher's 'clothes' were in worse repair than Dobby's, Cedrella didn't much blame him.

Once Draco was upstairs, Cedrella sent off a patronus message to Sirius. Sirius came through the floo a few minutes later.

"How's it go?" Cedrella wanted to know.

"They got Voldemort, but we killed about six of them ... all lesser members, of course, given who's free to be running around causing trouble, but still, it's a better tally than Dumbledore usually managed." Sirius told her.

Cedrella nodded. "Agreed. Even after it became clear that Azkaban 'lost' Death Eaters nearly as fast as they arrived, he refused to authorize a more permanent solution to the problem. If he had, the war might have ended a lot sooner than it did."

"No kidding." Sirius said, sounding disgusted.

Draco came down the stairs a few moments later. "The room looks good. Provided he cleans himself up, I have no problem with allowing him to serve, in whatever capacity you're willing to allow him."

Cedrella nodded. "Kreacher will have a new, clean pillowcase before we return." She said, eyeing the elf significantly. Kreacher nodded fervently.

"Right." Sirius said. "Before we go, need to fill you in on what's happening. What we found doesn't break the spell ... only the death of the caster can do that, which, for understandable reasons, no one was willing to risk. Wasn't worth it if he managed to set the spell off."

Draco nodded his agreement.

"That said, we found out that the spell can be transferred to a 'new owner'. We're going to try to switch the spell out to one of the Longbottoms." Sirius said. "Neither of them will ever be able to use the spell against you, which would allow you to live your life out normally. If it won't attach to them, we have a second option in mind ... which you probably won't be happy about, so let's all hope it works with the Longbottoms." Sirius grinned at Draco. "We're going to continue doing research on it ... mostly to find out if it would be possible to transfer the spell to someone who is going to die very shortly without it taking you with them. If that's possible, we'll switch the spell to someone who fits the bill, and then you'll truly be out from under the spell."

Draco made a bit of a face. Being 'slaved' to the Longbottoms was ... well, distasteful didn't quite cover it. But it was better than a lot of other choices, because Sirius was right ... the Longbottoms would never be able to use the spell against him.

"Augusta is at St. Mungo's, waiting for us." Sirius said. "So let's go. Faster we get this done, the better. I want to get Barty's wand back to him quick, before he realizes it's gone."

July 4 (very early), St. Mungo's

Augusta was indeed waiting for them, her son's wand in hand, as they would need it to complete the transfer.

It had taken Sirius and Draco a few minutes to sneak somewhere they really weren't supposed to go, but they'd gotten there, and now Draco stood at the end of Frank's bed, with Sirius, holding Bart's wand, on the one side and Augusta on the other, carefully holding her son's wand in his wand-hand.

"Well, here we go." Sirius said, then took a deep breath and began to weave a pattern with his wand, muttering something under his breath that the others couldn't quite catch.

Draco couldn't quite prevent a violent flinch when Barty's wand aimed at him. It really didn't help that a thin thread of blue energy arced out of his body and connected to the wand. Sirius muttered some more, then carefully touched the glowing-blue tip of Barty's wand to Frank's.

For a half a second, it looked like it wasn't going to work ... then Frank's wand glowed blue, and a second thin thread of blue energy arced out, this time from his wand to Draco. Sirius, grim-faced, pointed Barty's wand at Draco again and tried to invoke the spell. Draco flinched violently again, but when nothing happened, both he and Sirius grinned in triumph.

"That's got it. It switched over." Sirius said. "Dobby!"

The little elf popped in.

"Take this and put it back where Barty left it." Sirius told the little elf. "And thanks again for your help."

Dobby took the wand and popped out, blushing from the praise.

Once he was gone, Draco took a deep, shaky breath. After six months, it was finally over. "What ... " His voice came out high and tight, and he cleared his throat. "What now?"

"Now, you stay at the manor." Sirius said. "I presume that Lucius and Narcissa will have come up with some explanation for your lack of presence to your friends?"

"Probably." Draco agreed.

"We'll find out what story they came up with in the morning, and you can then write your friends letters accordingly." Sirius told him. "So that no one realizes what's really happened. At least, not until your mother's done with Barty, anyway."


	5. Power and Trust

Power and Trust

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Mercia and Northumbria were Earldoms that died out. I am stealing them and making them Dukedoms. Northampton is an Earldom turned Marquessate that exists today. Again, I'm stealing it. A hundred thousand thanks to OriginalTempus for his research assistance.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 4, 1992 Potter Castle

Despite having an abbreviated night's sleep and not being a morning person, Sirius was up in time for breakfast, smiling blearily at Harry when Harry walked into the family dining room with Hedwig on his shoulder.

"Hey kiddo. Ready for the day's lessons?" Sirius asked.

"Ready as I can be." Harry said, making a face. "Not really looking forward to it, honestly."

Sirius gave him a commiserating look. "Yeah, this is the unfortunate part of being us." He said. "But it's not too painful, really, if you think of it as a game or prank you're playing on all and sundry."

Harry cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

Sirius grinned. "Well, you act a certain way often enough, people assume that's how you are all the time." He pointed out. "And when they start assuming that, you can pull all sorts of stuff because it's not the sort of thing someone who acts the way you normally do around them would do, and they never see it coming."

"Oh!" Harry said, catching on. "Sort of like how Professor Snape acts like an evil bat, and people giving him 'what the hell' looks whenever he does something not-evil."

Sirius grinned widely and nodded. "Exactly." Then he grimaced, disgruntled at the fact that Snape was a viable example of the technique. "Anyway, you can have a lot of fun messing with peoples' heads by playing to their expectations in public and then being something completely different in private."

After breakfast they headed for the Entrance Parlor. At nine am, the floo flared to life, and Augusta's head appeared in the flames. "Might we come through, Lord Black?" She asked when she spotted Sirius.

"Of course, Augusta." Sirius said, and tapped the floo with his wand, allowing her and Neville access to the Castle. Moments later, both of them were standing in the parlor. Sirius bowed to Augusta and accepted her extended hand. "Welcome to Potter Castle, Lady Longbottom." And then kissed her knuckles.

"Most kind of you to receive me, Lord Black." Augusta said. Once she'd reclaimed her hand, she continued. "If I may be permitted to introduce my grandson, the Ancient and Noble Earl of Northampton Neville Franklin Longbottom."

Harry watched all this with no small amount of confusion at first, until he realized that Sirius and Augusta were going through what had to be the 'proper' formal steps to greet someone arriving at your home for a visit.

/Boy, is this going to be a pain in the neck./ Harry groused to Hedwig.

/At least you can mock and snark about them to me without anyone being the wiser./ Hedwig pointed out, sounding amused.

/Point. It will make all of this a lot less dull./ Harry agreed.

Sirius and Neville shook hands, Neville with a look on his face that said he was concentrating on getting this right. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Black." Neville said.

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Longbottom." Sirius said, then finally broke character with a grin. "Whoo. Ok, now that's over, c'mon in and we can get comfortable upstairs."

Augusta looked almost pained at Sirius' rather abrupt break, but went with it. "That would be good. There's a lot to go over. For both boys."

That had Neville giving Harry a commiserating look, which Harry returned.

"Ahh, right, Neville will be taking his place as Earl of Northampton in the House of Lords, as well as his place in the Wizengamot when he comes of age." Sirius said, then sighed. "And the good knows I could use a refresher. I remember most of it, but it's been a while."

Augusta gave him a sharp look. "And you never paid that close of attention in the first place, as you found your family and their ways abhorrent."

"Yeah, that too." Sirius agreed.

They all trooped up to the third floor and settled in. Augusta smiled at the two boys. "Dealing with the House of Lords and the Wizengamot is not going to be easy for either of you. You are both going to be at somewhat of a disadvantage due to your ages ... you will both be, by far, the youngest fully confirmed members when you take your places in either body. The House of Lords' minimum age is twenty-one, but by and large, the members are a good deal older than that, usually in their fifties or later. The situation in the Wizengamot is even worse, since Wizards have greater longevity than Muggles. Currently, the next youngest member aside from Sirius is Lucius Malfoy, who is thirty-seven. Many of those sitting on the Wizengamot are well past their centennials."

"And we're going to be fourteen." Harry said with a wince.

Augusta nodded. "Precisely. You are going to have to cultivate personas that compensate for your youth ... you in particular, Harry. Sirius and I both can assist you with getting a handle on it before your official debuts in a few years."

"Something that will assist you in cultivating the necessary personas is a good knowledge of who you are and where you came from." Augusta continued. That comment had Harry shooting a very amused glance at Sirius. "Both Potter and Longbottom have long histories as warriors, knights, and defenders of the Crown in the muggle world and likewise in the wizarding world. There has rarely been a war, magical or mundane, that did not have a Potter and or a Longbottom fighting in it if the British empire was in any way involved. Frequently at each other's backs."

"Harry, both you and Sirius, as Duke Mercia and Northumbria are, if distantly, in line for the Crown. Granted, a lot of people would have to die or be ineligible, but when it comes to those sorts of things, it still counts." Augusta said. "And you are the wizarding equivalent of royalty, as the two remaining families that can trace their lineage back to a time when writing was a new concept in the Isles, and perhaps further still than that. As such, you outrank literally everyone, save each other. In any given situation, people come to you, not vice versa. It's going to be up to you to figure out how to act in such a way that it never crosses their mind for it to be otherwise, even if you are only fourteen."

"Ouch. That's going to be fun." Harry said.

"No doubt." Augusta said. "But you will have allies. Septimus will be there, as will Sirius. And I while I will no longer be in the Wizengamot once you two take your places, I will still be around to provide advice. But that will be for later discussions. Today and tomorrow, we will be going over the rules and etiquette that will be expected of you as observing heirs. Neville already knows most of this, so he can help you practice."

"Firstly, the wizarding world has ranks that are roughly equivalent to the Muggle ones. Ours are variations on 'ancient' and 'noble'. Anyone with 'noble' in their title has some sort of Muggle peerage. With the exception of you and Sirius, they're all Earl or lesser, with most of them being Baronies." Augusta told him. "When you're being formally introduced, the Muggle peerage is included, so you'll find out fast what it is."

"Our ranks go thusly. Most Ancient and Most Noble, which is the equivalent of Duke. There's only the two of you left. Most Ancient and Noble, equivalent to a Marquess. There are six of them. Ancient and Noble, equivalent to an Earl, and there's about a dozen of those. Then there is Ancient, equivalent to a Viscount, and there's several dozen of those. There is also Noble, equivalent to a Baron, of which there is about a dozen." Augusta told him.

"To qualify as Ancient, one must be able to trace one's lineage among wizards for a minimum of ten generations on at least one side, preferably both." Augusta said. "Those with the title of Noble are generally short on wizarding lineage and compensate for that lack by having a muggle peerage to give their names weight, but there are a few exceptions, like the Weasleys. They are Noble, but can trace their wizarding lineage back a good deal further than ten generations on both sides."

"On top of all that." Augusta said, grinning when Harry made an exasperated noise. "There is a largely unofficial way for people of the same rank to figure out who's better than who. In the muggle world, that is largely governed by money, but in the Wizengamot, it is ruled by magical power. When you are formally inducted into the Wizengamot at fourteen, part of the procedure involves touching an orb. This orb measures your magical power on a scale from one on up, in increments of ten. Squibs are one to ten, capable of perceiving magic and magical creatures but unable to perform magic at all. Hedgewizards or witches are the next slot, and are capable of, at best, third year level spells. As such, they are not qualified to attend Hogwarts, and are either homeschooled or attend one of three schools that cater to that level of wizard."

"Beyond that, there are wizard/witch, magician, and mage levels, each with three divisions, Supreme, Arch, and plain. Most adults are in the Supreme Magician to Supreme Wizard/Witch levels ... that is, somewhere between forty-one and eighty. If two people have identical titles and power levels, who is better than who is judged by who has the longer wizarding lineage on both sides. If that's identical as well ... which has happened a few times in the past, then it comes down to who is richer."

Harry grimaced. "Oy. Are your power levels included in your titles during a formal introduction?" He wanted to know.

Augusta shook her head. "No. And for you, it's going to be something you can almost completely ignore, because the only person on your level title-wise is Sirius, and since the two of you are unlikely to be completely at odds on something to the point where wands might be drawn, knowing who can kick whose butt is unnecessary."

What followed after that was several hours' relentless drill on how to handle introductions, including introducing Hedwig, since she was a familiar, how and when to walk, sit, stand, and speak. The names and ranks of the current Wizengamot members, as well as their general leanings, whether pureblood extremist, neutral, Dumbledore stooge or member of the ever-enlarging Potter/Black Alliance.

It was headache-inducingly tedious. Thankfully, Sirius provided quite a bit of humor, as he got to play-act as the various Wizengamot members when Harry and Neville were practicing introductions. He tended to imitate their voices, to often hilarious effect, and frequently over-exaggerated their mannerisms. Or so Harry hoped, because if Sirius was being dead serious about how some of the people acted, Harry was going to be very hard put to keep a straight face, or stop himself from punching someone in the nose.

/I have never been so glad for lunchtime/ Harry told Hedwig when they finally broke for lunch. /That was even worse than I thought./

/It will get easier with time, Harry-chick/ Hedwig consoled him, preening his hair. /For now, why don't you suggest taking Neville on a tour of the grounds after lunch? You know he'll enjoy it./

Harry grinned. /Great idea. It'll give us both a chance to reboot our brains before we have to do another round of practice. Oh, hey, we can take Hissesh along too. Would you be willing to go get him?/

/Sure/ Hedwig said, then carefully turned herself around on his shoulder so she was facing away from the table and launched herself.

"Where's she headed, pup?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, I had a thought." Harry said, then turned to Augusta. "With your permission, Augusta, I'd like to take Neville on a tour of the grounds. I think he'll get a kick out of it."

Augusta thought about that one for all of a half-second. "Yes, yes he would. Provided you come back at the end of an hour. You need to keep practicing."

Harry sighed, but agreed.

By the time Hedwig had chivvied Hissesh down the stairs, lunch was over.

[[What's up, Harry?]] Hissesh asked when he spotted Harry walking out of the family dining room.

[[I'm taking Neville on a short tour of the grounds, because he really likes plants. Thought you might like to join us out there. You might run across a mouse or rabbit or something.]]

[[That sounds like fun]] Hissesh agreed.

"I still can't get over how big he is, even though he's been hanging out in our dorm room all year." Neville said, grinning at Hissesh. "I never knew they grew that big."

"Yeah, Burmese pythons are one of the bigger snake species. Anacondas are bigger though. By quite a bit. Hissesh is about fifteen feet long, big for a Burmese. Anacondas can reach over twenty feet."

Neville shivered. "That." He said. "Is a big snake."

"Yeah. Especially when they're big enough around to consider full-grown humans as lunch." Harry said. "Thankfully, they're not very aggressive, and tend to only be found in or near water in warm environments. They're also slow as heck on land because they're so big."

"Well, that's definitely good to know." Neville said. "So big, but not really all that scary."

"Got it in one." Harry said as he pushed the seldom-used back door behind the stairs open. "C'mon, this is as close as we get to a shortcut to where we're going unless we go by house-elf express."

HPHPHPHPHP

Augusta and Neville left about an hour before dinner. They'd be back the next day to continue practicing, since the Wizengamot session began on the sixth. Harry flopped gratefully onto one of the couches on the third floor once they were gone.

"That." Harry said. "Is going to be a complete pain."

Sirius gently ruffled his hair. "Yeah it is, kiddo, but there has to be a tradeoff somewhere, right? At least you only have to deal with that stuff at Wizengamot sessions and formal parties ... which we don't have many of, as formal parties include everybody. Informal parties tend to include only your circle of friends, which makes formal manners a bit silly and over the top."

Remus came in then, and Sirius grinned over at him. "How went the research?" He asked.

"We're making headway." Remus said. "Cedrella put a heck of a dent in the Black books, and most of the books that can be read by anyone have been gone through by one person. A couple more days, and they'll all be done and read by at least two people."

"Which will leave the Potter books." Harry said with a sigh. "I'll have to take a crack at those after dinner. Is Bill still here?"

Remus nodded. "He said he planned to stick around until you got through all the books, since you had the least knowledge of what to be looking for."

Harry nodded. "Good. I just hope we can figure out how to break or shut off or ... well, get that Mark out of Voldemort's control somehow. Soon."

"That makes two of us. I may not like the greasy bat, but not even he deserves what Voldemort's liable to do to him for turning traitor." Sirius said, shivering in horror.

Harry shivered as well. "Yeah, that can't possibly end well." He agreed.

July 4, 1992 Romania

Seren watched his two-legs with amused interest. They were always so excited and happy whenever he indulged them. It made it all the more fun to do things, just to keep them that way.

Not that he had, at first, understood the two-legs. Dragons, as one of the most magical creatures, could be very, very smart. But they grew into it. The older a dragon was, the smarter they were. And Seren was, essentially, a baby.

It had taken him time to comprehend even the simplest of words, but he'd gotten there. He still depended on scent to figure out what was going on and what the two-legs wanted beyond a handful or so of simple words. He hadn't understood why they asked him to move and do things at first, but he thought he may have worked it out, now.

They all smelled wistful/hopeful/envious whenever he came back from a flight. And they always, always watched him fly. He had never seen any of them fly themselves, so they evidently couldn't. Hardly surprising, since they didn't have wings. So he thought that maybe they wanted to come with him when he flew. It would be an easy enough thing to do ... it's not like any of them were very big. The four-legged prey he hunted were far larger, and he could carry one of those without a problem.

The only problem Seren saw was he couldn't carry them the way he did his prey. He'd hurt them with his claws, and he very much didn't want to do that. Though he thought that maybe the two-legs had figured that one out. Because they all clambered up onto his back, or where his neck met his back, and sat there for a bit from time to time.

Now he just had to see if he was right. Which made it a question of which two-leg to take with him. Which was quite the debate for Seren. He liked all of them, after all, and they never had more than one of them on him at any one time.

Right now though ... right now was looking like a good time. The flame-haired two-legs was currently sitting at the base of Seren's neck, patting and talking to him. The other two-legs that had been with him was moving away, taking him out of range of Seren's wings, where he wouldn't be hurt. Seren was unlikely to encounter a better time.

HPHPHP

It was Charlie and Jeffrey's turn at Seren-sitting, and they'd been having fun with him. Progress seemed to have plateaud a bit, but it was more the humans' fault than the dragons. They just weren't quite sure how the heck to get from 'hey, want to move around for us' to 'hey, fly with us on your back'. Though there had been some progress made on harness designs, and some had been commissioned to be made, including one for Seren, which would hopefully be ready in the next day or two.

They were in the middle of running Seren through his paces, with Charlie on his back, when someone called for Jeffrey from the safety of behind the hill curve, where Seren couldn't see them and object to their presence.

Jeffrey looked at him. "You going to be ok alone?"

"Yeah, should be. Not like Seren's made an aggressive move in months." Charlie said. "Go on. Sounds like they need a hand with something."

Jeffrey nodded and headed off. He got about halfway to the curve when things suddenly got very, very interesting.

Because Seren abruptly straightened, extended his wings, and launched himself into the air. With Charlie still on his back.

Charlie shrieked in alarm and wrapped arms and legs around Seren's neck, clinging for dear life against the completely unexpected launch. It took a minute before his heart stopped trying to beat its way out of his chest, but once Charlie calmed down a bit, he quickly yanked a handkerchief out of his pocket and transfigured it into a long strap that he maneuvered around Seren's neck, then connected the ends. It wouldn't stay like that for more than an hour or two, but hopefully that would be long enough.

With something a touch more secure to cling to and wind his legs around to keep the danger of falling to a minimum, Charlie finally sat up straight, and shortly thereafter, the full reality of what he was doing hit.

He was flying. On a dragon. A dragon. To which he was clinging tightly enough that he could feel Seren's neck expanding and contracting slightly under his legs as he breathed. Could feel some of the muscles working to move his wings.

He was never going to use a broom again. It would be so plebian and pathetic compared to this. A painful mockery. It didn't matter that Charlie had zero control of where they were going at the moment. He was sure that would come with a bit of time and effort. He let out an exuberant, exultant war-whoop.

It ended entirely too soon, with Seren coming in for a landing near where the dragons usually hunted. Charlie quickly undid the transfiguration on his handkerchief and slid to the ground, patting and praising Seren profusely.

About ten minutes later, Jeffrey, Calvin and the rest of Seren's team came racing up, expressions torn between concern and extreme envy.

"Are you all right, kid?" Jeffrey wanted to know.

"Riding the high to beat all highs at the moment." Charlie admitted, patting Seren's nose yet again. "But otherwise totally unharmed."

With that addressed, Jeffrey and the others abandoned concern and started firing questions.

"Why did he take off?"

"What was it like?"

"How fast did he go?"

"How the heck did you stay on?"

Charlie laughed. "I have no idea at all why he took off, and we probably never will figure it out. It was ... " He hesitated for a moment. " ... completely beyond description. I can't begin to think of words that do it justice. And he didn't actually go all that fast, compared to how fast we've seen them fly from time to time." Charlie gave Seren a considering look. "Nor did he turn, bank, or do any sort of maneuvers. He just flew straight. Fairly low and fairly slow. Like he knew he had to be careful." He looked back at his teammates. "And I transfigured a handkerchief into a strap to hold on to once I stopped panicking after he took off."

"You may be right about him being aware, Charlie." Jeffrey said. "The blighter waited until I was well out of range to take off. We've all been on his back how many times now? But always with the others close to hand. I think he realized there would have been a danger to those of us on the ground if he tried to take off when we were standing so close."

"We are going to have to start working on teaching him to respond to requests that can be used in the air." Charlie said. "And some way to ensure he can actually hear us, when we're flying. It wasn't all that noisy at the speed he was going, but if he goes much faster, even shouting won't cut it."

"Simple, one-word requests like we've been doing with the ground-bound stuff." Calvin agreed. "And it might actually be fairly simple to connect some of the same words to the appropriate actions in the air. Left for go left, Right for go right, that sort of thing. Trick is going to be teaching him requests that only work aerially. Like getting him to dive, or bank."

"We'll get it figured out, boys." Jeffrey said. "I'm just glad the harness we worked out will be ready soon. Ought to make the whole flying thing a lot easier and safer."

July 4, Potter Castle

Once dinner was over, Harry headed for the formal dining room and all the books there, along with Bill, Cedrella, Sirius, and Remus.

"You know." Harry said as he sat down and pulled a book to him. "I just realized we haven't seen Professor Snape or the twins all day." He glanced around. "Is anyone else wondering what the hell they're up to down in the potions lab?"

"Trying not to think about it, actually." Remus admitted. "Because if the twins manage to convince Severus to pull a prank of any sort, or allow them to pull one, we're all of us in trouble."

Harry snorted with amusement. "I can't even begin to see him playing a prank." He admitted. "I mean, it's Professor Snape. He may not be the evil bastard everyone at Hogwarts thought he was, but he's not exactly a ray of sunshine and fun, either."

"You'd be surprised." Sirius groused. "The git's got a good mind for pranks, when he's in the mood. Got us nearly as often as we got him, in school."

Harry grinned over at him. "From that tone, I'm guessing he got you good a few times?"

Which had Remus laughing. "Merlin, yes." Remus said. "He got James and Sirius both really good a couple times, before fifth year. Never bothered with me much, but that may have been because I tended to leave him alone for the most part."

Harry wondered what had changed in fifth year. He was betting that whatever it was, it was the root of the hate between Sirius and Severus. That said, he wasn't about to ask. He had a feeling he'd get his head bit off if he did.

They had some success, that night ... but also failure. Despite searching every book they had available, they found nothing other than the transfer spell. There was no way to break the Vindico Quod Rectus spell other than the death of the caster or new owner, once the spell was transferred. That was the bad news. The good news was that they'd found how to break the rest of the spells involved in the Mark.

The really unfortunate news, though, was that it was going to have to be Harry that broke the Mark down, because all the spells had been done in parseltongue, and the only way to fully break them would be doing the breaking spells in parseltongue as well.

Harry decided to play coward and hide while the adults broke the news to Severus. And to give himself time to get his head around the whole thing. Because even if it was in name only, the thought of owning someone was ... not doing good things to Harry's psyche.

/It's not like you'll lord it over him, chick/ Hedwig said, preening his hair and doing her best to comfort Harry.

/I know I wouldn't. But somehow, I don't think that's going to be a comfort to him, you know? He's going to hate this. He wanted free, and ... it's never going to happen. He's always going to have the whole 'what if' thing dangling over his head. He's going to hate it. Hate me. And I'm sort of going to be right there with him./

Hedwig flipped a wing around his head in imitation of a hug. /It will turn out all right, Harry. You'll see./

/I hope you're right, Hedwig. I really do./

HPHPHPHPHP

Severus stalked the gardens that night, looking every bit the vampire or bat he was frequently accused of being, trying to come to terms with what he'd been told.

He'd give them this much ... they'd been smart, and sent Cedrella down to give him the news after he'd sent the twins up to bed. She was one of the few people who he didn't have any sort of history with in any way, good or bad. Who could deliver the news without a shred of 'I told you so' or 'you deserve what you're getting' in her tone.

Not that it had helped, all that much. Oh, he wasn't about to take this out on Harry. No by any means. It wasn't anywhere near Harry's fault. This one was entirely his own fault. Or, well, his, Dumbledore, and Voldemort's. Still, it burned, to know he'd never be entirely free. At least he would no longer have to worry about getting nailed with crippling pain or being killed.

July 5, 1992 Potter Castle

The next morning, breakfast was ... rather tense. Harry kept his gaze fixed on his plate and didn't say a word to anyone. It had always been the best way to avoid getting his ass kicked at the Dursleys', and he figured it didn't hurt to try it here, when he really, really, really didn't want to piss Snape off any worse than he already had to be.

As such, he missed the increasingly concerned looks being passed among the adults at his sudden silent-and-meek act. By the time breakfast drew to a close, Sirius was honestly contemplating murder, and trying to decide which person to kill first. It was one thing to sort-of know that the Dursleys had abused Harry, and another thing entirely to see Harry sitting there with his shoulders hunched and his entire body tensed as if expecting to get hit.

He wasn't the only one. Every adult at the table either had exceedingly pissed-off looks on their faces or, if they were good at keeping a poker face, mentally contemplating torture and/or murder. Severus finally rolled his eyes and wordlessly indicated for everyone to make themselves scarce. Fred and George were the first ones out the door, muttering to each other. The adults followed, leaving Severus and Harry alone.

"I am not angry with you, Harry." Severus said. "Nor will I be. This is hardly your fault."

Harry finally unwound a little bit, giving Severus a wary look. "Hasn't stopped people from hating me in the past, Professor." He pointed out softly.

Severus snorted in disgust. "Those ... creatures ... you grew up with are hardly an upstanding example of humankind, Harry." Severus pointed out. "Now come, let's get this over with so we can go about our days."

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to straighten up. Part of him still didn't believe that Severus wasn't going to get pissed off and either verbally or physically nasty with him, but he'd long since learned to just deal with the shit as it hit. If it happened, he'd deal with it then. Because Severus was right, they needed to get this done so that Voldemort couldn't kill him ... or worse.

They headed to one of the spare parlors on the first floor, and Harry dug the scroll of parchment Bill had written the spells, and what order they needed to be done, on. At least they didn't have to try to steal Voldemort's wand ... which they had no idea where the heck it even was right now. Voldemort's twisting and adapting of the various spells had eliminated the wand requirement, tying it into parseltongue instead, which really, given that he'd been the only known parselmouth at the time, had been a brilliant move. Because even if someone had managed to steal his wand, they'd not have been able to undo the spells.

Bill came in a moment later, both as Harry's cheering squad, and so he could check to make sure the Mark was fully broken when Harry was done.

Severus unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up, and Harry got comfortable on the couch next to him before taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, and then pulling out his wand.

The first few spells were surprisingly easy, and Harry fancied that he could almost see the Mark breaking. Then, with the fourth spell, he really could, because the dull gray Mark began to get very fuzzy around the edges, like it was trying to blend back into Severus' skin. The fifth and sixth spell increased the effect, turning the Mark into a gray blob with no real distinctive features.

And then it was time for the transfer. Harry cringed mentally, truly, deeply not wanting any part of this. Not wanting to own Severus, even in name only, but needing to protect him from Voldemort's wrath. Harry started the spell.

And Magic answered.

To cast any spell, you need two things: Will and magical power. The words used in spells merely gave the human mind a framework within which to work to achieve a particular goal. As any magical child under the age of eleven has discovered, if you want something badly enough, you can make it happen without fancy words or wand movements.

At eleven, Harry already had roughly the same magical strength as the average adult wizard, and the potential for more as he got older. He also had a great deal of willpower, honed by years of dealing with the Dursleys.

Unfortunately, not all the magical power in the world could break the Vindico spell. But as Voldemort had proven, it could be altered, could be changed. Could be changed beyond all recognition, into something that wasn't Vindico Quod Restus at all, while still retaining that unbreakable link between the two.

Harry collapsed back into the couch when it was over, not realizing something odd had happened. Severus stared at his arm in curiosity and confusion, and Bill, seeing that look on his face, came over to see what was going on. Bill got a good look at Severus' arm as well, and immediately ran a couple diagnostic spells. Then stared at a dozing Harry in dumbfounded disbelief.

"What ... I ... how the hell?" Bill sputtered.

Severus gave him a narrow-eyed glare. "Would you care to speak coherently, Mr. Weasley?" He growled.

"Severus, that's not ... the Vindico spell doesn't leave a mark." Bill waved a hand at the stylized white owl and green snake now on Severus' arm. "And according to the diagnostic, that is, in fact, not the Vindico spell. It's something else. Something I've seen writings of in the tombs in Egypt. It's a protection. Ancient wizards would put it on people under their protection, and if that person was in danger, the wizard would know, and be able to come to their aid. Would be able to find them anywhere. The marks were a warning to all that the person was protected by a wizard. There's been a bit of a debate among the older cursebreakers that this spell ... we don't even have a proper name for it ... was twisted at some point to produce the Vindico spell." Bill glanced from Severus' arm to Harry, then to Severus' face. "How in the name of hell he managed this is a question for the ages. I know for a fact he didn't read about this in any of the books we've been going through."

Severus glanced down at his arm and then over at Harry, one eyebrow heading for his hairline. "Intriguing. We shall have to talk to him about it when he wakens."


	6. Belief and Perception

Belief and Perception

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Thanks once again to OriginalTempus for research assistance. And new thanks to LadyHolder, who, along with OriginalTempus, spent the better part of two hours researching, organizing, and cackling over this chapter's plot with me. You two are superstars. Again, I have stolen stuff left, right, and center. I mean *absolutely* no disrespect whatsoever by doing so.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 5, 1992 Potter Castle

Harry didn't wake from his nap until almost lunchtime. More than enough time for all the adults to have a meeting. Not that the meeting actually helped clear up the confusion, or find answers to how and why Harry managed to pull off what he did.

Harry woke from his nap on the couch to find Sirius sitting at the end of the couch with Harry's feet in his lap and an amused look on his face. Harry gave him a jaundiced look.

"Do I want to know why you look so amused, or should I just assume I have some sort of gunk on my face from a prank?" Harry asked.

"No gunk, I promise." Sirius said. "Just amused because you don't seem to be able to not pull spectacular stunts of your own."

Harry gave his godfather a narrow-eyed stare. "And what does that mean?" He wanted to know. Half a second later, something occurred to him, and his whole body went cold. "Oh no. Don't tell me I screwed up!"

Sirius immediately waved a hand, trying to stem Harry's growing panic. "No, you didn't screw up, Harry. At least, not the way you're thinking, meaning in a bad way. But something weird did happen. A good weird though." At Harry's disbelieving look, Sirius raised a hand. "I swear. It's a good thing. You got the spell out from under Voldie's control." That, Sirius knew, needed to be said right off or Harry was liable to start panicking again. "But you didn't slave Severus to you. Or anyone else for that matter."

Harry frowned. "So ... what did I do?"

"According to Bill, you managed to switch the spell from the Vindico mess to something that was, in ancient times, used to protect lesser-ranked wizards and non-wizards under a wizard's protection." Sirius told Harry. "If Severus ever comes under attack or gets kidnapped or something, you'll know, and be able to go straight to him, either by apparating, once you learn how, or via house-elf. But that's all it does. You can't hurt or control him at all. He's still got a mark on his arm, but now it's an white owl and green snake, rather than the Dark Mark. According to Bill, the marks were a warning to other wizards that the person was under another wizard's protection, and to not mess with them, or else."

Harry blinked a few times. "So ... he's free?"

Sirius nodded. "Yep. Bill's done a bunch of different scans to be sure. None of us can figure out how the heck you managed that, though."

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. "I really, really, really didn't want to have that Vindico spell under my control." He admitted. "I mean, I knew I would never use it, but ... "

"But you didn't like the entire concept." Sirius said with a nod. "Dunno how that would have changed things around, but it was probably a big factor in the change." He admitted. "Now, you've slept enough, and we have a bunch of stuff to go over today in preparation for tomorrow. Augusta and Neville are here ... they opted to wait for you to wake up when they found out what you'd been up to this morning."

Harry groaned, but got to his feet and prepared for a long day of learning etiquette and protocol.

July 5, 1992 Malfoy Manor

Narcissa Malfoy was a patient, devious woman. This was a Black trait that even Sirius had inherited, his vociferous denials be damned. So despite the fact she knew her son to be safe, free from Barty's control, she did not immediately pounce on the arrogant bastard.

For one, he was currently in high favor with Voldemort, who had been unpredictable as all hell before he had become disembodied, and Merlin alone knew what the last decade as a specter had done to his level of sanity. If she attempted to punish Barty without Voldemort's permission, she could very easily end up dead, insane, or physically broken thanks to torture herself.

No, she would have to wait. Barty would make a mistake, and fall out of favor with Voldemort, and need punishing. At which point Narcissa would volunteer herself to mete it out. And what she did to the bastard, then healed before Voldemort found out about it, well, that would just remain her little secret, wouldn't it?

And if Barty didn't make a mistake on his own, Narcissa was fully capable of forcing him into making a mistake. It would be all too easy. Better, she and Lucius could remain here, spies in the enemy's camp, able to slow or thwart some of Voldemort's plans through connivery and careful application of house elf interference. Besides, the wait would make her eventual revenge all the sweeter. Anticipation did make the best garnish for these sorts of things.

Today they were meeting as a fully re-formed group for the first time, with Voldemort in attendance, attached to a minor wizard from the European continent that had been procured for his use the day before.

"The summer session of the Wizengamot begins tomorrow." It was odd, hearing Voldemort's voice come from the general direction of the captured wizard, without that wizard's mouth moving. "It is clear to me that there is a new player on the field. One that might well attempt to use the Wizengamot to their benefit."

Quite a few people in the room nodded in agreement. "Dumbledore was not behind the force that attempted to thwart us." Barty agreed wholeheartedly. "In truth, there can be only one source for the leadership of the new group."

"Potter." Voldemort's voice was a hate-filled hiss. "He is the source."

"Indirectly, my lord." Barty said carefully. "He cannot actually lead. He is but eleven, and no matter his supposed accomplishments, adults will not heed the commands of a child, especially not in a contest of this magnitude. I suspect Black and his cohort Lupin are in fact in charge."

There was a long, breathless moment where everyone wondered if Barty had overstepped his place. Eventually, the captured wizard nodded. "A valid point, Barty. And if Black has indeed taken charge, he will doubtless attempt to use the Wizengamot as another tool in his attempts to stop us. He is, after all, a Black, and well aware of the power he wields as Head of House."

There were a number of nods around the table. "We're going to have to try to counter him." Lucius eventually said. "It is likely that he will at least try to play nicely, especially at first, if only because half the Wizarding world is still wondering if he is, in fact, guilty of what he was suspected of or not." Because wizards in general were easily led idiots. "We can slow him down considerably, and possibly even get some measures passed into law without him realizing it. It's been done often enough in the past, by both sides."

One of the favorite tactics of the various factions in the Wizengamot was to hide a law they wanted passed that the other factions would object strenuously to somewhere in the middle of a long-winded, contorted law for something far less objectionable. The maneuver was almost invariably successful, and not discovered until well after the fact.

The captured wizard nodded. "Agreed. As our highest-ranking member, you will be in charge of that aspect of this campaign, Lucius. Do not fail me." Voldemort said.

"I will not, my Lord." Lucius said.

He would have done this anyway. He sincerely believed in the superiority of pureblood wizards, and sincerely believed that muggleborns needed to be kept in their proper place. He had only objected to the whole 'kill, rape, and torture at will' part of Voldemort's ideology. There were better, more effective ways to cut muggle influence out of their world.

He looked forward to crossing metaphorical swords with Black. After all, the Unbreakable Vow didn't stop him from trying to thwart Black's schemes. He only had to truthfully report what happened in a Death Eater meeting when Black asked. Lucius was fairly sure Black hadn't realized the gaping loophole he'd given Lucius to work with, and Lucius had not seen fit to inform Black of his error. His expression when Lucius moved against him in the Wizengamot ought to be entertaining.

July 6, 1992 Wizengamot Chambers

Sirius had spent the last year essentially pussyfooting around. Moving quietly, in the shadows. Speaking in whispers and gathering allies on the sly. The Black/Potter Alliance had, until two days ago, been a secret to literally everyone but those who had thrown their lot in with the rebel Lord and his godson. Despite the confrontation earlier in the year, Sirius doubted that even Dumbledore fully realized what Sirius was up to.

And even though they had been moving quietly and entirely in secret, they had managed to break at least one faction in the Wizengamot before a single 'shot' had been fired. Dumbledore, once the single most powerful player in the Wizengamot had been reduced to a bystander, stripped of his positions and deprived of fully half his supporters.

Now, however, Sirius was done with sneaking about. Even if it had been possible to keep people blind to the shift in power in the Wizengamot, Sirius wouldn't have wanted to try.

Sirius did his best work when playing to an audience. And this audience he knew how to manipulate better than most. So it was that you could have heard a pin drop when the doors slammed open and well over a dozen people marched through the doors, led by Sirius and Harry, both of them dressed in the somber judiciary black with a white W directly over their full-color Family Crests. Behind and to the left of Sirius and Harry marched Augusta and Neville, similarly attired. Behind and to the right of Sirius and Harry was the Head of House Greengrass, the next eldest and highest ranked of those in the Alliance. The rest of the current Alliance members were behind the Longbottoms and Greengrass, each according to their Wizengamot ranks in a blatant display of power.

Sirius and Harry marched straight forward, towards two rows of six chairs, all currently empty. These were the sole remnants of the now-dead First Families, kept in their honor in perpetuity, a silent reminder of what was owed that illustrious group, even if the vast majority of them were now dead and gone. Sirius and Harry took the two center seats of the front row, settling themselves with a regal disregard for the mayhem their entrance had caused.

The two columns of their allies had split off smartly, each of them heading for their assigned places in the U-shaped rank of seats. An elevated platform took up the bulk of the open area of the U. There were two lecterns, one on either side of the platform, used for announcement of and debates on proposed laws, and in the center was the Chief Warlock's bench, where the Chief Warlock sat to preside over the session. To the Chief Warlock's left was a far less impressive table and chair for the use of the court secretary, charged with recording the events of the session.

The (extremely unusual) complete silence continued for several long moments after the last of the Alliance members had taken their seats. Sirius took especial pleasure from the totally confounded and almost angry look on Dumbledore's face in particular.

But then, the man did have something to be mad about, after all. Because Sirius had stolen a number of people right out from under the manipulative bastard's nose, without him being aware of it. The Weasleys and Longbottoms had been but the tip of the iceberg. Moody was probably the bitterest blow for Dumbledore, as he considered Moody a friend, for whatever that was worth.

Aside from those three, Sirius had managed to steal the Browns, MacDougals and MacMillians out of Dumbledore's camp. And was better than halfway to sweet-talking Bones, something Dumbledore had never managed with Amelia. Sirius had also managed to sway a number of neutral families that had refused to march to Dumbledore's drum.

Beside him, Sirius could just feel Harry trembling slightly with the effort to clamp down on the urge to laugh. Sirius could tell that was the problem because he could see Harry's face out of the corner of his eye, and Harry's eye was glittering with suppressed amusement.

Malcolm Davis finally broke the silence by slamming his gavel onto the bench before him. "As it is now Nine O'clock, I, Malcolm Davis, Chief Warlock, do hereby call this two thousand ninetieth Session of Wizengamot to order."

That seemed to shock everyone back into a semblance of normal behavior, and a susurrus of sound made the rounds as everyone settled in. Once everyone was in their places, two more persons entered from a door behind the Chief Warlock's bench. Sirius straightened slightly when he spotted them, thoroughly surprised.

As much as a large segment of the wizarding population would like to forget it, they were still, in point of fact, subjects of Her Majesty the Queen of England. Most of the time, they were in fact able to forget that little fact, and the Wizengamot at large was able to control, to a large extent, the information the Queen (and her predecessors) received about Her magical subjects and the laws under which they operated. This was helped by the fact that the Royal lineage was Muggle, and therefore, never a full part of the wizarding world.

That last fact changed with Elizabeth II, the first Muggleborn witch of Royal lineage. At the time of the discovery of her status as a witch, she had been an unlikely third in line for the throne. Her family was successful in keeping her status as a witch quiet, mostly by dint of servant loyalty and the fact young children in that strata of society were generally not included in adult gatherings.

Then circumstances occurred that turned her from the unlikely third in line to the heir presumptive, and there was no way to set her younger sister up as the heir presumptive without the public asking a lot of very uncomfortable questions, as Elizabeth had been, insofar as the public was aware, a completely normal child thus far, with no scandal or questionable mental competence attached to her.

She was privately tutored in magical subjects, but this was countered to a large degree by a carefully chosen nanny who ensured that Elizabeth saw magic as, well, something somewhat less than desirable. Not quite an offense in the eyes of God, but uncomfortably close, in hopes that Elizabeth would largely reject her magical heritage. It worked. Despite becoming a fully trained and capable witch, Elizabeth only rarely carried a wand on her person, and even more rarely performed magic of any variety.

When she was thirteen, she began a written correspondence with Phillip Mountbatten, the then-eighteen-year-old adopted son of that family. At the time, Elizabeth believed Phillip to be the exiled son of Grecian and Danish royalty. Very shortly after their correspondence began, however, she learned the truth.

Phillip Mountbatten was, in fact, not of Grecian and Danish royalty. He had been born Marius Black, second son of Cygnus Black and, at the time of his birth, seventh or eighth in line for Head of House Black, as the second son of the second son. Unfortunately for Marius, he was declared a Squib at the age of nine, having failed to exhibit any accidental magic, and his name not being on Hogwarts' roll of future students. He was handed over to the Mountbattens by the then-Head of House, Arcturus Black.

The Mountbattens had a long history of alliance with the Blacks, for a very good reason. The Mountbattens had been started by a squib Black, who went on to make a name for himself in the Muggle world entirely separate from the Blacks. The family's status as squibs meant they had a high chance of producing a wizarding child, so early on a deal was struck with the Blacks. Any magical children born would be given to the Blacks to raise, to assist in keeping the magical world secret, and any squibs born in the Blacks would be given to the Mountbattens, who, while their rank didn't quite equal the Black line's, came close enough to make it easier for the Black squibs to adapt to the Muggle world.

Ironically enough, Marius had proven to not be a squib, but a hedgewizard. Capable of magic, but too weak to qualify to attend Hogwarts. A fact he didn't discover until he was nearly fifteen, and his identity as Phillip Mountbatten had been firmly established. Not that he had been overly inclined to resume his place as a Black, after being disowned, declared dead, and pawned off on someone else. But like any true Black, Phillip made the most of his circumstances, and when word reached him through his own magical tutors that Elizabeth was taking lessons in magic, he contacted her, initially planning to be her long-term magical advisor, since he knew a great deal about the magical world.

But plans change, and in Phillip's case, for the better, as he and Elizabeth became quite close, and ended up getting married. Which, when Elizabeth took her place as queen, gave Phillip a higher rank than the Blacks enjoyed. The irony of it had made Phillip's decade.

Elizabeth came to the Wizarding world every five years to open the summer Wizengamot session, directly after the election of the next Minister for Magic. Not that those visits ever resulted in her being fully informed of the wizarding world's doings, thanks to the political environment during the vast majority of her reign. Though she opened the Wizengamot with far less pomp and circumstance, so as to avoid drawing any attention to the wizarding world. Every year, Phillip attended with her.

Due to the war with Voldemort, and how dangerous things were in the magical world at that point, Millicent Bagnold, the then-Minister, had asked Elizabeth not to attend the 1980 Wizengamot opening. Elizabeth had returned in 1985 at the next election. And then was begged off again in 1990, when Fudge was elected.

By that point, Elizabeth smelled a rat. She had been aware of certain undercurrents during her visit in 1975, but had, at the time, presumed it was due to the war her magical subjects were fighting. Unfortunately, her visits were brief enough that she really couldn't get a good feel for what was going on. Given the reports she'd received of the increasing trouble in the magical world, not attending the 1980 Wizengamot opening had made sense to her. The last thing the wizarding world needed was for her to be attacked there.

The undercurrents she had noted in 1975 were still very much there, and perhaps even stronger, which she found odd, in 1985. At that point, she had begun to do some quiet investigating, only to come up with a disturbing lack of information. Being asked not to attend the 1990 opening had been something of a last straw. She hadn't wanted to go in blind, however, and had increased her attempts to find out what was going on. Given her other duties, that had taken quite a lot of time. And then Sirius had been set free.

To say Her Majesty had been perturbed to discover any subject had been incarcerated without trial, never mind a subject of such high rank, was to vastly understate the case. The events of the next few months had made things even more interesting. At that point, Elizabeth had decided to forgo the usual polite protocol and just show up. At the very least, it was likely to shake loose unguarded reactions. Because something was going on with her magical subjects, and she was going to find out what.

Everyone rose as the Queen entered, Phillip walking just behind her. And Elizabeth got the unguarded reactions she'd been hoping for. Quite a few people looked exceedingly discomfited by her presence. Uncomfortable, shifty looks abounded, as did more than one disgusted sneer that the perpetrator was not swift enough to conceal.

Thanks to Phillip, Elizabeth was aware that there were certain wizards and families that did not look upon the magical equivalent to commoners favorably. But neither Elizabeth nor Phillip had any idea just how bad things had gotten since the late twenties, when Phillip had last been a member of this world. That some of these people openly disdained her and her authority was not a good sign.

To his credit, Malcolm Davis recovered from the shock of the Queen and her Consort showing up unscheduled fast. He swept them a respectful (if outdated by muggle terms) bow. "Your Majesties. We are honored by your presence."

Elizabeth gave him a penetrating look, but quickly decided that whatever was going on, this man at least was in earnest. "The honor is ours, Chief Warlock. Please, continue. We are only here to observe."

Malcolm nodded. "Very well." He looked somewhat lost for a moment, realizing there wasn't a place for them to sit to watch the day's proceedings, as Elizabeth and Phillip had never stayed past the time it took for Elizabeth to address the Wizengamot before.

At that point, Sirius got to his feet and approached the platform, giving a deep, respectful bow. "Your Majesties, if you please, I do not believe the First Families would begrudge you the use of their seats."

Elizabeth and Phillip happily accepted the offer, and descended from the platform to head for the double tier of seats.

Meanwhile, Harry had frozen into place and was having a minor panic attack. Because it was an 'off year' and Augusta had needed to teach Harry so much already, she had not included how to greet royalty in her lessons the last two days, having intended to instruct Harry on those particulars later in the summer. And while the bulk of the Wizarding elite might not have been all that impressed by or in awe of the Queen, Harry had grown up in the muggle world and the same could most definitely not be said of him. He was very quietly freaking out because he was going to be sitting within touching distance of the Queen and her consort. And he had only the very vaguest of ideas on how to behave in their presence, or how to greet them, because that was really not something that even a normal kid learned, and Harry's childhood had been anything but normal.

/Breathe, Harry./ Hedwig reminded him gently, wrapping Harry more tightly than usual in her supportive presence. /Breathe. It's all right. Calm down, chick. Just be respectful and polite and you'll be fine. She's not going to expect you to be perfect./

Leaning on Hedwig's support, Harry managed to calm down and regain his composure before Sirius, Elizabeth and Phillip arrived at the seats. He got to his feet, Hedwig on his shoulder.

"Your Majesties." Sirius said. "If I may introduce the Most Ancient and Most Noble Duke of Mercia, Harold James Potter, and his Familiar, Hedwig."

"Your Majesties." Harry said, bowing respectfully.

"A pleasure, Lord Potter." Elizabeth said, then, with a twinkle in her eye. "And Lady Hedwig." with Phillip echoing her a moment later on both counts.

Harry relaxed marginally, because Augusta had covered the whole 'greeting familiars' thing, and nowhere in had there been anything about a familiar being bestowed a title of any kind. He therefore assumed (rightly) it was Elizabeth's quiet attempt to put Harry more at ease in her presence. That it buttered Hedwig up was just a side benefit.

Hedwig let out a crackling bark and bobbed her head in the closest thing an owl could get to a bow or curtsy. /See, they're not so bad./

/Just because they kissed up to you ... / Harry thought, highly amused.

Elizabeth, being a shrewd operator, realized that Sirius was going to be far more comfortable dealing with her than Harry was going to be, and tilted her head at Phillip, indicating for him to sit beside Harry so the royal couple bracketed Sirius and Harry. Not that having Phillip on his right was all that much less intimidating for Harry than having Elizabeth there.

Sirius was doing some very, very fast re-arranging of his plans. With the division between the muggle and magical worlds being what it was, it simply hadn't occurred to Sirius to appeal to the Queen for assistance in dealing with the problems the wizarding world was facing. Now, with her here on an unscheduled trip, Sirius had been reminded. And was cackling mentally over the mayhem he could unleash if he got the Queen on his side. Which was entirely likely once she found out exactly what was going on.

Malcolm gave himself a mental shake and opened the session with a short speech that covered the issues left over from the winter session. This included proposed laws currently under consideration, as well as issues that might require laws that had been brought to the Wizengamot's attention, and would require debate to hash out over the next month. He then asked for any new issues.

Sirius and Lucius ended up on their feet at the same time. Sirius glowered at Lucius a bit, though it was mostly for show.

Malcolm recognized Sirius first, as he had the higher rank of the two wishing to speak. Sitting beside Phillip, Harry managed to give the impression of hunkering down without actually moving, as he anticipated the reaction to Sirius' planned speech. Phillip, well accustomed to reading body language, picked up on Harry's sudden anticipatory wariness, and cocked an eyebrow slightly, wondering what was about to happen.

"My fellow Lords and Ladies." Sirius said. "Ours is a proud heritage and an ancient lineage. We, all of us, can trace our ancestries for hundreds and even thousands of years. We have been, if not kings and queens in our own rights, then advisors to royalty and those of high rank since there was first a King on these islands." Sirius looked around. "We were acknowledged as wise, and fair arbiters of justice. As skilled and much-sought healers."

He gave a disgusted snort. "How far the mighty have fallen. Now, now we are few. We have descended into petty prejudice, bigotry and hatred. We have become weak, pathetic, and nigh-useless. Worse, one in five of our children will flee this country and seek their fortunes elsewhere, further reducing our already critical numbers."

"Why has this happened, you ask? I tell you it is not because we allow muggleborns into our midst. No. It is because our ancestors, in an ill-considered bid to shelter themselves from a brief period of persecution cut us off from the muggle world. We became secret. Our world shrank, and with it our minds and sensibilities. We became ruled by fear." Sirius began to stalk back and forth as he spoke, his cloak billowing out behind him and snapping smartly as he turned in a manner very reminiscent of Snape.

"And because we were afraid, we targeted all who were not 'us'. Werewolves, centaurs, goblins, Muggleborns, even Squibs. They all suffered for our terror as we cowered in our homes, waiting for our world to be discovered and torn apart." Sirius gave another disgusted snort.

"And where did that fear lead us? To Voldemort." There was a mass shudder and more than a few cries of alarm. "That atmosphere of fear and bigotry that had been allowed to ferment for hundreds of years gifted us the greatest mistake our world has ever produced. A megalomaniacal madman with delusions of grandeur. A man who stole the best and brightest children from multiple generations by preying on their fear, and got most of them killed. A man who marched through our world almost uncontested. Because we were afraid!"

Sirius lifted his wand. "This." He barked. "Is a weapon. Every one of us has been taught to use it as such. Yet throughout Voldemort's reign, most of us cowered in our homes and waited for someone to save us!" He shook his head. "Our ancestors, ladies and gentlemen, would be horrified at what we have become."

He stopped pacing and turned slowly, locking eyes with as many people as he could. "Well, lords and ladies, I for one refuse to be afraid anymore. I am done cowering behind thick walls and heavy wards. I am done turning a blind eye to the injustices perpetrated by the fear that chokes our world. I fully intend to loosen or outright abolish the fear-choked laws that have been passed by this body. I will no longer tolerate the marginalization of anyone or any sentient being, magical or not, that is not a so-called pureblood."

To say that speech put the kneazle among the snidgets was a vast understatement. The Wizengamot seemed to be more or less equally divided between stunned silence, cheers, and angry denials. Dumbledore and Lucius would have been horrified to realize that they were both in the 'stunned silent' camp.

Dumbledore has known, to a point, that Sirius was gathering followers. He'd suspected that Sirius would try to pull something, but never in his wildest nightmares had he begun to suspect something like this. This was the sort of sweeping, grand plan that he and Gellert had once had. Only, Sirius had the power to actually accomplish what he was setting out to do.

Lucius, for his part, was completely stunned. He'd had more warning than Dumbledore that Sirius was up to his eyeballs in plotting, had been wary because unlike many, he did not forget that Sirius was a Black, but even he hadn't suspected just how all-encompassing Sirius' plans were.

Or how smart Sirius had been in executing that plan. First, the display of blatant power when he and the members of his Alliance marched in, and then, rather than saying 'I want to abolish a few laws', Sirius had flat-out called everyone who wanted to keep those laws in place a sniveling coward and a disgrace to their ancestors. None of them wanted to be accused of that. Granted, Sirius had pissed a good number of people off, but Lucius had no doubt that Sirius, after giving them a little time to calm down and think, would have a remedy to their wounded prides ready.

Lucius was already mentally scrambling, trying to adjust his planned speech in the face of Sirius' frankly inspired rhetoric. Unfortunately, he wasn't coming up with anything that would make him seem anything but the weakling coward Sirius claimed adherents of separatist laws to be. Damn him. Lucius was just grateful that in the furor, it was unlikely that anyone would remember he'd stood up to speak in the first place.

It took a few minutes, and more than a little banging on Malcolm's gavel on the bench before everyone calmed down. Well, mostly calmed down. Sirius was being given death-glares by more than one person. Beside him, Harry was doing his best to not wilt under the furious looks.

/Well, that went over well, don't you think?/ Hedwig commented cheerily.

Harry gave a mental laugh. /Oh, yeah, sure. They're all of them cheering like mad soccer fans./ He snarked.

Hedwig gave a gleeful mental cackle. /Well, they need the shakeup, the old fuddy-duddies/

/No argument from me on that one./

After that bombshell of a speech, Sirius went on to outline, in specific, what he planned on. Among the lot was abolishing all anti-werewolf legislation, which ought to have surprised exactly no one, considering Sirius' best friend was a known werewolf. There was also mention made of loosening or abolishing most of the centaur-related legislation, which was only marginally less biased than that leveled at werewolves, and a proposed re-negotiated treaty with the goblins, with an eye towards far more fair treatment of that race, in hopes of cutting any potential future uprisings off before they got going.

The more Sirius talked, the more squirming the other members did, and the more dirty and/or horrified looks Sirius got. Finally, he wound down and gave the room at large a toothy grin that was more 'cross me, I dare you' than 'I am happy' and finally yielded the floor.

Rather understandably, with the entire Wizengamot more or less in an uproar, Malcolm decided to call it a day, and reconvene tomorrow, when everyone's heads would, hopefully, be a little calmer.

Sirius, still sporting that rather dangerous grin, turned to Elizabeth and Phillip. "Your Majesties, I know that you doubtless have a great deal of business to attend to, but I would like to request an audience at your convenience." He said, the request going unheard by any but the four of them in the furor.

Elizabeth smiled at Sirius. "We cleared our calendar for today, Lord Black, as we were unsure of how events would unfold. "It would seem that there is much that needs to be discussed, if your speech is anything to go by."

"Your Majesty, quite frankly, you have no idea." Sirius said, entirely seriously. "But hopefully by day's end, you will."

The four of them headed into the room where Elizabeth and Phillip had been waiting for the Wizengamot session to start, and Sirius grabbed the floo powder. "Harry, you go ahead, and warn Remus. You'll also have to adjust the floo so it will permit them."

Harry, eyes wide, nodded. "Right!"

/Remus is never going to believe this./ Harry told Hedwig. Then, just before he darted into the green fire, another thought hit him. /Oh dear sweet mother of Merlin. The twins. In the same building as the Queen!/


	7. Upping the Ante

Upping the Ante

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 6, 1992 Potter Castle

Harry scrambled through the floo, one hand on Hedwig to brace her against the spinning. As it was, they both still almost went sprawling, mostly thanks to Harry's rush to get back to the castle. He hurried through the process of adjusting the floo to allow the Queen and her Consort access to the castle. That done, he stuck his head back through and let Sirius know, then took off at a dead run to find Remus and Severus.

As luck would have it, he came perilously close to running Severus down on the stairs, only his Seeker reflexes and Severus' preternatural awareness of another person's proximity preventing disaster. Severus scowled at Harry.

"Mr. Potter. Might I inquire as to why you are in such a rush?"

Harry took a second to gulp in some air, then blurted out. "The Queen was at the Wizengamot. Sirius invited her over. They're on their way!"

Both of Severus' eyebrows headed for his hairline. "That would seem to be sufficient cause for haste." He admitted. Then he flicked his wand, causing his patronus to appear. He gave the glimmering doe the message and sent her off to warn Remus. "There. I have forewarned the wolf. I dare say it would behoove you to greet your guest."

Harry took another breath. "Right, right. Thanks!" And he took off back the way he'd come, to return to the Entrance Parlor.

Severus watched him go, mentally shaking his head. He'd spent the last day wrapping his head around the fact that he was free, thanks to Harry. It had been more than slightly surprising, if only because Severus' black, paranoid heart couldn't quite conceive of someone so totally rejecting the idea of being another person's lord and master that they managed to avoid that fate by somehow twisting magic to their will. Then again, Harry was Lily's son. It took no effort whatever to imagine Lily's reaction.

A reaction that had wrung a sad smile or two from Severus over the last day. She would not have been content with merely warping magic to her will, Severus knew. She would have then promptly turned around and beaten Voldemort senseless for having the effrontery to enslave anyone. Given the plans that Black had and Harry agreed with, it was clear Harry's apple hadn't fallen very far from Lily's tree.

He gave a mental snort at himself and then headed back down to the potions lab. He'd started up to get something from the gardens, but given their visitors, he now planned on putting everything in stasis. He did not want to miss a moment of this meeting if he could avoid it.

"Fred, George, go clean up. We're having some unexpected, but very, very high-ranked visitors. I expect you both to be on your best behavior." Severus told the twins, pinning both boys with a glare. "If you embarrass me, I will take great pleasure in taking it out of your hides in ... exceedingly painful ways. Do I make myself clear?" Because the last thing they needed was the twins deciding it would be a grand idea to prank the queen.

"Understood, Severus." The two of them chirped in unison, and promptly dashed over to one of the big sinks in the lab to wash up before heading out of the lab, so they didn't accidentally track potion bits all over the castle.

Severus stayed only long enough to ensure that everything was properly stowed and under stasis charms before he headed back out.

Remus' patronus greeted him at the top of the stairs, letting him know they were convening in the meeting room on the first floor. Severus waited until the twins came hustling down the stairs from the third floor before he headed that direction.

They were greeted by a, for someone raised in the muggle world anyway, surreal sight. The Queen of England, dressed in one of her ubiquitous suit dresses, this one a handsome deep blue. Beside her was Phillip, dressed in a suit that, had he not been walking beside Elizabeth, would have allowed him to go unrecognized as the Queen's Consort, as it was devoid of any royal markings anywhere Severus could see.

Across from them was a nervous-looking Harry, Hedwig perched on his shoulder, with Sirius and Remus bracketing him. Sirius grinned when Severus and the twins walked in.

"Ahhh, excellent. We're all here. Your Majesties, I would like to introduce you to Potions Master Severus Snape, the premier potions master of the realm, and youngest Master of record, and his apprentices, Fred and George Weasley. This is Queen Elizabeth II, and her Consort, Phillip Mountbatten."

Severus somewhat regretted the fact that he could not see the twins' faces at the introduction. If Harry's face was anything to go by, their reaction was quite amusing. Severus resolved to inquire later.

"Your majesties." Severus greeted, giving them both a bow. He was gratified when the twins followed his lead, no hint on their usual hellery in their voices as they greeted their august guests.

"And this is Remus Lupin, majordomo to House Black and Potter." Sirius continued, indicating Remus.

"A pleasure to meet you all." Elizabeth said. "Now, Lord Black, I do believe you said we had quite a bit to discuss?"

Sirius nodded. "Definitely. But first, I need to know what you know of the current situation in the magical world, so I know where to start."

Elizabeth and Phillip shared a look. "Not much, I am afraid." Elizabeth finally admitted. "We have not been told overmuch. We know, of course, that you were fighting a war against a madman a little over a decade ago, and that it was bad enough that Minister Bagnold asked us not to attend the 1980 Wizengamot opening. Other than that, we have no idea."

Sirius grimaced. "So start at the very beginning then." He said.

"My speech wasn't even close to being hyperbole or exaggeration." He said. "Prior to the establishment of the Catholic church and the subsequent demonization of magic practitioners, wizards were well-thought of. I will even admit that going into hiding for a while was wise, because while adult, trained wizards were not truly threatened by the witch hunts and burnings, the same couldn't be said for children, especially the muggleborn ones. For their sakes if nothing else, we needed to go underground for a while."

Sirius sighed. "Unfortunately, it caused a lot of problems. We started to develop an us -versus- them mentality, to be afraid of everyone and everything that wasn't us ... and that eventually came to mean anyone who couldn't trace their magical heritage back a couple hundred years on both sides." He grimaced.

"As a result, the law that made us stay secret wasn't repealed after the hysteria died down in the late seventeen hundreds and early eighteen hundreds. The laws were actually tightened, made more extreme. To the point where even magical creatures were being persecuted, because they were not so-called pureblood wizards."

Elizabeth was frowning by that point. "Were they aware such laws were beyond their purview?" She asked. Despite their separate, secret status, wizards were still subjects of the crown, and required to follow the same sorts of laws. And while it was entirely probable that such discriminatory laws wouldn't have been a problem two hundred years ago, such was no longer true. It was now law that all were equal and could not be discriminated against.

"Probably." Sirius admitted. "The problem, your majesty, is that none of your predecessors were wizards, and thus fell under the same discrimination that every other muggle did in the eyes of the people making these laws. I guess they figured they didn't need to pay any attention to a mere muggle. And while you being a witch is an improvement, you are a muggleborn ... just barely a step up from a mere muggle in their eyes, and thus to be disdained and ignored."

"And why was nothing done?" Elizabeth demanded.

Sirius sighed. "Because my family was right smack in the middle of it, one of the biggest supporters of the extremist viewpoint." He admitted. "And while the Potters weren't, there was only so much they could do alone. And there was nothing your predecessors could really do about it. At best, if the Potters had appealed to you or your predecessors, it would have sparked a war with the Muggle world, as you rightly wouldn't have stood for what was going on. That wouldn't have ended well, for either side."

Elizabeth admitted he was right. Up until the World Wars, it would have been a tossup as to which side won, and there would have been rather extreme devastation on both sides. Even after the Wars, when winning tipped in favor of the muggles thanks to their aerial bombs, it still would have been rather ugly, as Elizabeth was aware that many of the wizarding world's high population areas were near or in high population areas for muggles.

"Anyway, the whole mess sort of came to a head a little before World War Two, with the rise of a nasty fellow by the name of Gellert Grindlewald." Sirius continued.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, I remember mentions of him, at the time. He was making a mess of Europe's magical communities about the time Hitler was traipsing about doing the same for the muggle world."

Sirius nodded. "He was an extremist. He eventually got taken down. But then, in the seventies, a new guy showed up, who made Grindlewald look like a tabbycat by comparison. That was about the time we." Sirius motioned to Remus and Severus. "Started school. A school that was little more than a recruiting ground for Voldemort, thanks to the Headmaster's willful ineptitude."

That made Severus blink at Sirius in surprise. Mostly at the fact that Sirius was aware and willing to admit that Dumbledore's actions and lack of action back then had left Hogwarts ripe for the picking, when it came to recruiting followers for Voldemort.

"We were getting our butts handed to us for most of that decade. Mostly thanks to the fact that the average citizen did nothing more than hide under their beds when the bad guys came calling." Sirius snorted in disgust. "These really are a weapon." He twirled his wand. "And we're all taught how to use them as such. It would be like having a gun at your side and knowing how to use it ... but refusing to shoot at the bastard threatening to kill your family and instead waiting for the cops to show up and save the day." He shook his head. "I know most folks wouldn't have won those fights, because Voldemort had some pretty dangerous followers, but knowing that they'd risk getting badly hurt if they attacked someone's house would have slowed them down, make them think twice about their attacks and whether it was worth the injury or loss of some of their people."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. While she didn't approve of such a mentality on an everyday basis, that sort of mentality during a war was not only desirable, but necessary. You had to make the enemy pay dearly in blood, sweat, and tears for every victory.

"Things, though, had a chance to change, back then." Sirius said with a grin. "Because of me. I was the first Black ... to be potential Heir, anyway ... to completely disagree with the Black Family politics to the point I fought with the Hogwarts Sorting Hat to not get sorted into the same House as the rest of my family. Even better, I became friends with the Heir to House Potter, James." Sirius winced.

"And things went wrong." Elizabeth said, accurately divining the cause of that wince.

"Badly wrong." Sirius agreed. "We didn't know it at the time, but it wasn't just because of Voldemort that things went wrong. It was also thanks to the so-called Leader of the Light, one Albus Dumbledore. When the dust settled, James and Lily were dead, I was in jail without benefit of even being properly charged, nevermind found guilty of a crime, and Harry was handed over to people that James and Lily specified in their wills that he was never to go to."

"All thanks to Dumbledore's manipulations?" Elizabeth asked.

"Not all his, no ... some of it was Bagnold and Crouch, but he sure didn't lift a finger to fix things, when he had the power to do so. And he was directly, personally at fault for taking Harry to the people he wasn't supposed to be raised by."

"How did things get untangled?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

Harry blushed crimson. "That was mostly me. Well, at the start anyway." He admitted. "It sort of snowballed after that, really fast."

"And how did you manage that?" Elizabeth asked, keeping her voice gentle so as to keep Harry from thinking he was in trouble, which he most definitely wasn't.

"Ummm, well ... I sort of got suspicious when the first letter for Hogwarts arrived, thanks to where it was addressed to." Harry admitted. "And who was sent to bring me to Diagon Alley. I adore Hagrid, really, but he's ... well, he's not even a teacher at Hogwarts, just the groundskeeper. So I wondered why it was that he was sent, and not a proper teacher, you know?"

Elizabeth and Phillip both nodded, encouraging Harry to continue.

"And Hagrid had my vault key, too. Which made me wonder. Because random strangers aren't generally given access to someone's bank account in the muggle world, and I didn't think that the wizarding world would be so different as to make that ok. So I stole my key out of Hagrid's coat pocket and headed back to Gringott's the next day. Which is when I found out about Sirius and Remus, and sent them letters. And sent a letter to Amelia Bones, who's the head of the DMLE. And that's when things started snowballing like crazy."

Sirius and Remus both laughed. "To put it mildly." Remus agreed, speaking for the first time.

"So what are your plans, Lord Black?" Phillip asked, likewise speaking for the first time.

"Force some changes. Abolish the prejudiced laws posthaste. Make it all but impossible for Voldemort to gain a foothold a second time. I'd much rather do it the way I've started, in the Wizengamot, but both Harry and I are prepared to force the issue magically. And I have a bad feeling it will come down to that, but I want to give everyone the chance to get their heads out of their asses first."

"Wait, gain a foothold a second time? What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

"Put simply ... Voldemort wasn't killed, back in 1981. He was very, very badly hurt, and had to go into hiding, but he wasn't killed. He's in the process of coming back right now." Sirius admitted. "We only found out for sure that he was coming back about a month ago." When Quirrell had tried the third floor corridor.

Elizabeth frowned. She had no idea how that was even possible, but that hardly mattered. All that mattered was that the man was trying to restart a war, and thus needed to be stopped. "You have some sort of plan in place to deal with this Voldemort, I presume?" She asked.

"The start of one, anyway." Sirius said with a nod. "We need to figure out how the hell he was able to not die, so we can finish him off for good, but I've already started recruiting as many of the movers and shakers in the magical world as I can. I've also started getting in contact with the so-called 'commoners' from the various colonies, provinces, and protectorates. I hope to keep this in Britain, but in the eventuality that Voldemort takes the fight off these shores, we ought to be prepared."

"And what can we do?" Phillip wanted to know.

"Forewarn your people." Sirius said. "Your various law enforcement offices and military. Wizards are ... fairly easy to spot, for the most part. If they're not wearing robes, they're wearing truly outlandish combinations of muggle clothing. Tell your people that, if they come across wizards fighting, the ones wearing black robes and silver masks are the bad guys. And for them to not announce their presence. Muggles have no defense against spells cast at them, other than ducking and hiding." Sirius said. "But if they come across such a fight, and don't announce themselves, they'll have a good chance at being able to shoot at the bad guys from whatever cover they can find. And unless a wizard is specifically shielding against solid, thrown weapons ... which bullets would fit under ... they'd get hit."

"And how often do wizards shield against solid weapons?" Phillip wanted to know. While he had, over time, learned all the spells he was capable of, and knew the conventions for dueling, he knew next to nothing of the sorts of spells commonly used in a duel.

"Not all that often." Severus said, interjecting a comment for the first time. "Most spells used in magical fights don't produce solid items to fling at an opponent. Solid items to shield ones self with, yes, but to throw at an opponent, only rarely." Solid items being created was fairly common, of course, but tended to take the form of things like animals or plants, which weren't generally flung at people at speed, and were most easily fended off by conjuring a brick wall or the like, rather than a shield. "So long as your fighting forces keep themselves behind a wall or corner of a building or the like, they would be more or less fine. Though they should be instructed to have a speedy way to quit the battlefield if the enemy comes at them. As Lord Black has indicated, aside from ducking behind something solid, muggles have no defense against magical attacks."

"Though we might be able to come up with something, given a bit of time." Sirius admitted. "There isn't any such thing at the moment, because there's never been a need for it, but ... it might be possible to figure something out."

Phillip peered at Sirius for a moment. "And you would be willing to do this? To give muggles a defense against magical attacks?"

Sirius nodded. "My eventual goal." He admitted. "Is to fully reintegrate the wizarding world with the muggle. I won't see it happen in my lifetime, I don't think, but I'd like to have it well on its way to happening."

Phillip glanced at Elizabeth, who cocked her head and one eyebrow slightly. Phillip regarded Sirius for a long moment, thinking. Phillip had considered, occasionally, the possibility of making himself known to his natal family. And, every time the thought crossed his mind, he had immediately ignored it, as what little news he had of the magical world made it clear that the Blacks, whose reputation had not been the best even when his name had still been Marius, had fallen yet further from grace. There had been absolutely no benefit to reestablishing ties with them. There had, in fact, been the very strong likelihood of them attempting to gain control of the British muggle world through him, if he had made himself known.

This young man, this new Head of the House, was clearly out to change that. To take the House in a direction it had fled from for hundreds of years. And it was clear to him that, whatever else had occurred over the last half-century, Sirius had not been informed of Marius' fate, or he would have known who Phillip was and greeted him as such. Phillip was unsure if the cause of that was the Blacks' increasing criminality, or due to some other cause.

"There is one piece of information you should know, Lord Black, that you evidently do not, though I do not know the reason for the lack." Phillip said. "Centuries ago, your family made an agreement with a muggle family of note to exchange children in the event of a wizard being born to the muggles or a squib being born to the Blacks."

Sirius frowned. No, he hadn't heard about that. And he had no idea if his lack of knowing was because Orion had given up on him as a fit future Head of House, or because Orion, being the pureblood supremacist he was, had determined to end that agreement, so that the Black family would not be polluted by the presence of a muggleborn.

"To make a very long story short, Lord Black ... I was born Marius Black." Phillip said. "And decreed a squib at age nine, thus subject to being turfed out of the wizarding world."

Sirius blinked at Phillip for several long moments. He knew of Marius, of course. He'd heard about 'the squib' from Walburga often enough, in her rantings about the 'unfit' members of House Black. He'd had no idea as to Marius' fate, and as such, hadn't tried to find him when he'd taken full control of the House. Finding one man ... if he was still alive, which had not been guaranteed ... with absolutely no idea of what had become of him would have been a very, very tall order.

And then the realization hit. Of who Marius had become. And hard on the heels of that came the mental imagery of Walburga's likely reaction to the discovery. Actually, given that she was Marius' niece and wife to the Head of House, it was entirely possible she had known. And if she had, it would explain so, so much. Certainly, Orion, as Head of House, had to have known, and might have told her. Sirius started to snicker, which quickly dissolved into full-on laughter.

Remus was familiar enough with both the Black family and Sirius to have a very good idea of what had Sirius in such stitches, and was soon joining Sirius as he pictured Walburga's reaction to Marius' fate. Their laughter set Harry off, who didn't really understand what was so funny, but simply reacted to the infectious nature of their hilarity. The twins joined in shortly behind Harry, and even Severus was smirking after a few moments. Then again, so was Phillip.

"Yes, the thought of the family's reaction to finding out I married the Queen of England made my decade at the time, and has kept me amused whenever I have thought of it since then." Phillip admitted. "And that was without knowing the full truth of the depths to which they had fallen since my removal to the muggle world. I rather think their reaction was even more extreme than I imagined it to be."

"It probably was. If your niece Walburga knew, it would explain so very, very much about her attitude as an adult. A squib attaining such prominence would have driven her to a froth." Sirius said through his chuckles, once he'd wound down enough to be capable of speech. "Orion too, for that matter. And he had to have known, since he was doubtless given full disclosure before he took on the mantle of Head of House, unlike me."

Phillip's smile grew. "Now, imagine their reactions if they had discovered they were mistaken about my capabilities where magic is concerned."

Sirius' eyes went wide. "You're not a squib, then? Just didn't do anything really obvious before they decided to cut their losses?" This set him off again, and by the time his amusement died down to the point where he was merely snickering, he was almost on the floor.

"I am not a full wizard." Phillip admitted. "I was declared a squib when my name was discovered to not be on Hogwarts' list. But they forgot that not every wizard has strength enough to qualify to attend there."

Sirius finally sobered and pulled himself back onto the couch. "So you're a hedgewizard." He said. "Yeah, that would have given Orion and Walburga kittens. Arcturus, not so much, I don't think. He was a stuffy old geezer, but not horrible, at least not that I can remember." Sirius honestly couldn't figure out which would have horrified that pair more. That Marius was so weak, or that he had married a muggleborn, regardless of her rank in the muggle world.

"You mentioned wanting to integrate wizards into muggle society." Elizabeth said, getting things back on track, mostly. "Do you think it possible?"

"With some work, yes." Sirius said. "Muggles have got past the knee-jerk 'burn the witch' reaction now, and if it's done properly, the revelation that magic is real wouldn't throw things into chaos, at least for muggles. The wizarding world ... that's going to be a bit more of a challenge. At least for some parts of it. But I think it can be done, especially if we start educating the upcoming generation of witches and wizards accordingly. We may end up having to wait for the older generations to die off before full integration can be accomplished, though. Hence me saying it probably won't happen in my lifetime."

"A more detailed plan will need to be drawn up. A publicity campaign, perhaps, to introduce the idea." Phillip said, his tone thoughtful. "We would have to consult with appropriate authorities on how to accomplish the goal in the muggle world. But as we will have to confer with a number of people so as to be prepared for the looming war, that will hardly be a hardship. "And perhaps send a few of our fighting forces your way, to learn how best to attack and defend themselves where wizards are concerned?"

Sirius nodded. "That sounds like a plan to me." He agreed.

"Sirius." Harry said, speaking up for the first time, his voice somewhat hesitant. "Maybe we could get them pictures of the known Death Eaters? So they can recognize them if they show up without masks on?"

"Good idea, kiddo." Sirius said. "Yeah, we can do that pretty easily." Many of them could be found just looking through the family photo albums. And the ones that couldn't, had probably gotten their pictures taken for the Daily Prophet at some point or other, and it would be a simple enough task to track the pictures down.

Shortly after that, Elizabeth and Phillip left, quietly talking over plans of who to alert to the brewing trouble and how. Sirius and co were doing something similar, making plans on what to tell anyone that got brought to them for the training.

July 6, Malfoy Manor

Lucius bowed before the wizard currently playing host to Voldemort. "My Lord, we have a problem."

"Speak, Lucius."

"Black's been more clever than even I realized. He has consolidated a considerable powerbase, if the people who walked into the Wizengamot with him were any indication. He has essentially gutted Dumbledore's powerbase. And if the speech he gave is also any indication, he is going to not only fight us tooth and nail, but try to inspire everyone to follow his lead that is not one of us."

The wizard frowned. "You have a pensieve, do you not, Lucius?"

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius said, then (correctly) divined the direction of Voldemort's thoughts. "I will prepare the memory immediately, my Lord."

Lucius went to get his pensieve and pulled the memory out for Voldemort to peruse. Wasn't like there was a damn thing Voldemort could do, after all. People would either take Black's rhetoric to heart, or they wouldn't. And while Black had been exceedingly blunt about his political aims, Lucius couldn't help but think that Black was up tp more than that. Gryffindor he might have been, but he was still, after all was said and sifted, a Black. Lucius made due mental note to have Narcissa watch the memory. She might be able to divine more than Lucius had picked up on.

Voldemort watched the memory three times through, trying to make sure he caught every nuance. When he came out of the pensieve the third time, he headed straight for his quarters. "See that I am not disturbed." He commanded.

This was going to require some serious thought.

Voldemort paced as he turned things over in his mind. Black was up to more than he'd let on in that meeting, Voldemort was sure. Having met and interacted with the three previous Heads of House Black, as well as several other members of House Black, Voldemort was quite aware of how devious and dangerous that family was. It had been the main reason why Voldemort had gone to such pains to recruit that family to his side. He'd not wanted any part of having them for an enemy.

And now he had at least one of them as an enemy. Possibly more, though he was unsure just how many Blacks remained alive at this point. Something he was going to have to look into. And watch the ones that were in his camp like a hawk, because the Blacks had always, would always, put family first, ahead of all other allegiances.

The Wizengamot, Voldemort knew, was all but a lost cause. Black alone had more power than the entirety of the Wizengamot. With that detestable Potter in his corner, it was even worse. Still, Voldemort resolved not to just walk away from that particular battlefield. At the very least, fighting Black every step of the way in his attempted 'reforms' would slow things down and keep Black at least somewhat occupied. So he would instruct Lucius to keep trying to push the pureblood agenda, and block Black's reforms.

And if Black was successful in tying to rally everyone, Voldemort knew he was going to need a larger fighting force. He had fully intended to contact the more far-flung arms of his army once he had his own body again, but Black's actions meant he was going to have to do it sooner than expected. And he was also going to have to alter his plans for what target to use in the resurrection potion. He'd originally wanted Potter, but Voldemort was smart enough to realize that with Black as his watchdog, Voldemort's chances of getting Potter were all but nil. It wasn't a huge blow. There were, after all, other enemies he could use.

Decisions made, Voldemort left his rooms and commanded the first Death Eater he encountered to inform the rest that there was to be a meeting, immediately. It understandably didn't take all that long to get everyone gathered together. Voldemort stood at the head of the table.

"Our plans must needs move forward." Voldemort announced. "Rosier, I am charging you with traveling to rally our more far-flung allies. We will have need of them soon enough. Lucius, you are to continue your efforts in the Wizengamot. Give Black as much trouble as you possibly can."

Both men bowed as they received his orders. "We have three weeks before the potion is ready." He said, then turned to Barty. "In that time, I want you to plan a strike to bring an enemy to us at the appointed time. I will inform you as to which enemy in private."

Barty grinned ferally as he nodded his acceptance. "As you wish, My Lord."

"Yaxley, Nott, Macnair, the three of you are to plan an attack on Azkaban, to free those of our people who have been incarcerated all this time. This attack will take place the same day as my assumption of a new body." Thus drawing a lot of fire and attention a long way away from where the resurrection would be taking place.

The three men nodded their acceptance of their mission, and Voldemort continued. "Alecto, Amycus, I am charging you with rallying our forces here in the United Kingdom. I want everyone ready to march on Azkaban when it's time." The Carrows nodded their acceptance of their orders.

"Until the potion is ready, only Lucius will be actively acting on our behalf against the enemy. I do not want any attacks against muggles or mudbloods from now until the potion is ready. We need to lull them into as much a sense of complacency as possible."

"As you command, My Lord." And various variations on the sentiment greeted his command, and Voldemort nodded. "Dismissed."

Barty rightfully divined that the 'dismissed' applied to everyone but him, so he stayed in his seat while the others left to begin their assignments. Voldemort briefly raised some anti-eavesdropping spells, then gave Barty an evil smile before he told Barty who his target was.

Barty nearly laughed himself sick. This ... this was glorious. And would strike a fitting blow to the masses. Not to mention, it would prove for once and for all that there was, in point of fact, no one that his Lord feared.


	8. Choosing Sides

Choosing Sides

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Once again, I have stolen things. The Rt. Hon. Malcolm Rifkind PC QC MP was the real-world Secretary of State of Defense in the latter half of 1992. I mean no disrespect whatever by using him in this fic.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 7, 1992 Black Manor

It had been a very long three days for one Draco Malfoy. He'd done a lot of thinking, once he'd been freed of that thrice-damned spell. Well, mostly. Freed to the point he no longer need concern himself about it, at any rate.

Draco knew himself well enough to know he didn't have his father's flair for the political arena ... at least, not yet. But even he could see the writing on the wall. Black and Potter were allied. Potter's name would bring just about every Light-aligned House flocking to his banner, and Black would gather the neutrals and those in the Dark camp who really didn't want to be there. The conclusion was foregone. Somehow, some way, Voldemort was going to be permanently defeated.

A year ago, that would have dismayed him to the depths of his soul. Now, though ... now, things were much different. Now, he was rather bitterly irritated with himself for so thoroughly alienating himself from Potter. But perhaps there was a way he could regain some sort of favor in Potter's eyes. He would need an ally and go-between with the Slytherins in school. And Draco may have been quiet the last half of first year, but really, he was a firstie. His father's prominence aside, no firstie could hope to truly rule Slytherin House. For that matter, neither could a Second Year. But he could begin working on his yearmates, and the new firsties, and the third years. Feel them out, see which ones were fanatically loyal to the Dark Lord and which ones weren't.

The complication there was that while the kids might not be followers, the parents could be, and would be exceedingly displeased (to put it mildly) with their offspring for defecting. Which meant they'd need somewhere safe to stay, if they did take that option. But would Potter ... or Black ... be willing to house Slytherin defectors that weren't close-kin? Sure, pretty much every pureblood family had some relation to Black, and through Black to Potter, but in most cases, it was quite a few generations removed, now.

Eventually, he finally decided to approach his (human) caretaker. Who happened to be one of those fairly closely related relatives. She was the daughter of his great-great grandfathers' little brother. Not closely related, but close enough.

He tracked Cedrella down to one of the drawing rooms.

"Hello Draco." Cedrella said when she spotted him. "Looking for a bit of tea?" She asked.

Draco wasn't fooled. He'd not exactly taken care to ensure his face was blank, so it was probably pretty clear he had something on his mind. That said, Cedrella was a Slytherin, and knew better than to ask him straight out. Only Gryffindors were that blunt and straight forward.

"That would be appreciated, yes." He said. "Thank you."

Cedrella called for Kreacher, who popped in, out, and then back in again, this time with a tray holding cups, pot, and plates of sandwiches.

There was quiet for a bit as tea was poured and doctored according to taste, and both it and the food were consumed. Only when Draco had poured himself a second cup did he finally broach the subject.

"I don't really know what to do." He finally admitted. "There is no way I'm ever going to be a Death Eater. But at the same time, I completely bollixed things with Potter, and I seriously doubt he's going to let me anywhere near him, much less listen to anything I have to say."

Cedrella smiled at Draco. "Septimus and I did not get along at all, when we were first married. There was a lot of fighting, a lot of unfortunate things said, because Septimus didn't trust me, and I initially thought him an ignorant fool." No need to say why, given the parties involved. "I eventually offered to take Veritaserum and let him question me, to set his mind at ease. After that, things improved drastically."

Draco considered that. While it would be uncomfortable, he really didn't have anything to hide. No ambitions to wipe out muggleborns or anything of that nature, even if he did think they were inferior to purebloods. "That ... would probably work with Potter." He said.

"It would at least clear the air between you." Cedrella agreed. "But I am curious as to why you would want to side with Potter openly."

Draco snorted. "Professor Snape already has." Well, he'd sided openly by Slytherin standards, anyway, which was markedly more subtle than the other houses' versions. "But there's only so much he can do with the students. They're not about to go to him if they're thinking of jumping ship. And they're for damn sure not going to approach Potter himself, either."

Cedrella nodded. "So they need a go-between, someone who speaks their language and understands their concerns, and can convey that to Harry."

"And Harry's going to need to know who to watch out for ... who the die-hard Voldemort supporters are." Draco continued. "Which will be fairly easy to ferret out, but only by someone in the House who interacts with them in private."

Because Slytherins almost never gave such things away in public. And everyone in that category would be being very careful around Professor Snape, knowing he'd chosen the other side, and was, to put it bluntly, a hellaciously dangerous enemy. Who knew everything that was said and done in the dorms. The going explanation for that one was the house elves, but Draco wasn't entirely convinced, himself. All he knew was that there was no detectable spellwork involved.

"Will you contact him for me?" Draco asked. Draco had no idea where Potter was at, and was not permitted in the room with the floo, so he couldn't overhear anything, or try to go anywhere. Not that he was really wanting to take off, but Cedrella was taking precautions.

Cedrella nodded. "Yes. It'll have to wait until later, as he's in session right now, but I'll contact him."

July 7, 1992 Wizengamot

Sirius was so very much looking forward to today. He'd dropped one hell of a bombshell on the Wizengamot yesterday, and now it was time to see what sort of reaction there was going to be, now that people'd had a bit of a chance to stop and think.

Harry wasn't quite as thrilled with going back to the Wizengamot, but he supposed he'd eventually get used to it. He twitched and fussed at his robes until Hedwig, perched on his shoulder, had enough of his squirming and nipped his ear.

/Relax, Harry-chick. You survived yesterday, didn't you? And that was with the Queen showing up. Today will be easy by comparison. Remember, Sirius will be the one taking all the heat. You just get to sit and watch./

Harry snorted, but then relaxed. Hedwig had a point. As usual. /What would I do without you, Hedwig?/

/Aren't you glad you'll never have to find out?/ Hedwig asked, her voice smug, pleased, amused and deeply affectionate all at once.

/You have no idea./ "All right, Sirius. Let's get this over with." Harry said aloud.

Sirius gave Harry a commiserating grin. "Yeah, then we can get back here and have some fun." He led the way to the floo.

This time, while the Black/Potter Alliance members entered together, it was not with the deliberate pomp and circumstance of the day before, where they'd more or less literally marched in in rows by rank, specifically to make a point. This time, they walked in in a more normal knot.

Not that the knot was having less of an effect on everyone than the by-ranks march of the day before. If anything, the fact that they were grouped together in a knot was more interesting to their observers.

Harry and Neville, the only underage attendees in the group, had automatically been surrounded by the adults. But neither Sirius nor Augusta was hovering closest to the two boys, as both of them were towards the outside of the knot, talking with other adults. It was Septimus and Moody that were hovering over the boys, Moody blatantly giving everyone the evil eye, hand hovering over his holstered wand. Which had been holstered only because it was required by law to be holstered in the chamber. Septimus was chatting with both boys, though anyone not in the knot would have been unable to eavesdrop by any means ... not only had Septimus cast anti-spying spells before they came in, so had Moody. And the other adults had all cast anti-spying spells over their own conversations, too, which meant that everyone's spells were overlapping and strengthening each other.

They'd arrived far earlier today than they had the day before, on purpose. It didn't take long for the first of the Wizengamot members not in the alliance to wander over. Incredibly, it wasn't Dumbledore leading the charge.

Harry spent the next half-hour deeply grateful to both Augusta's instruction and Sirius' able mimicry. Also, Septimus and Moody's immediate presence, which scared off the nastier sorts. Not to mention Hedwig, since their bond allowed him to snark and boggle without mortally offending anyone. Because the various Lords were every bit as bad as Sirius had made them out to be, if not worse. When everyone finally had to split up to go to their assigned seats, Harry blew a relieved mental breath.

/Thank Merlin that's over. Gah. I didn't think it was possible for Sirius to be understating how bad they'd be, but he was./

Hedwig laughed. /Just think, you have over a century of dealing with people like that to look forward to./

Harry barely managed to keep his sputtering mental. /Gee, thanks, Hedwig. Just remember, you have that long of dealing with them to look forward to as well, because if you think I'm going to suffer this in silence ... / He fought down a snicker at the blast of amused irritation he got from Hedwig, along with the ear nip followed by a brief hair-preen.

Malcolm Davis called the meeting to order, then gave the door behind him a look, waiting a moment before he attempted to continue. After yesterday, he wasn't about to take it on faith that the Queen wasn't here. When the door didn't open, he turned back around and got down to business.

"Lord Malfoy, I believe you had a new issue you wished to bring before this body?" Malcolm said, glancing over at Lucius.

Lucius took a deep breath as he got to his feet. This was not going to be easy, even if it would be fun. It had been a long time since Lucius had faced a new challenge. He'd long since learned how to work around Dumbledore.

"I did. But I first feel I must address Lord Black's statements." Lucius said. "He claimed we were afraid, due to a brief period of persecution. I wonder if close to a thousand years can be called brief. He said our world has become troubled and shrunken because of fear. And why should we not be afraid? Not only do muggles kill us in droves, but muggleborns pollute and destroy our society and traditions at will."

You could have heard a pin drop from a mile away. Everyone in the room was riveted, wondering what Sirius' comeback was going to be. Most of the folks not allied to one side or the other were actually sitting forward in their seats a bit, even if they half-expected to hear more of the sort of half-truths and worthless reassurances that Dumbledore handed out like candy.

Sirius had a very disconcerting smirk on his face as he got to his feet. "A thousand years of persecution, you say? Not hardly. It is true we were hunted down for a time. Back in the four hundreds, and again in the sixteen hundreds. For roughly a hundred years, both times. Then things died down. There are still the odd individuals that hunt witches, but it's been several hundred years since it was a government-subsidized sport."

"As for muggleborns polluting and destroying our society and traditions ... yes, that happens. But it's hardly their fault." That admittance got a reaction from the crowd, a sort of surprised murmur. Sirius started pacing, much as he had the day before. "Since the secrecy act was put into place, muggleborn children have only been informed of their status when they turn eleven. This gives them, at most, eleven months to learn everything their same-age pureblood counterparts know. Things it took their pureblood counterparts the entire previous eleven years to learn. How then is it the muggleborns' faults when they don't know everything? How can we blame them for not knowing things when they've simply not had time to learn them?"

Sirius turned to face Lucius. "You want the Muggleborns to stop stepping on pureblood toes? Tell their parents what they are the moment they're identified. Have them be sponsored in the wizarding world by a pureblood, who would be responsible for their education in social interaction and tradition."

Sirius was deeply tempted to go on a 'and besides, not all traditions are good ones' rant, but knew he'd lose his audience if he did that now. "Besides, Lord Malfoy ... nothing you can do will stop muggleborns from being born. I'm sure you remember your lessons on what happens if magical ability is left untrained."

That one got a flinch out of everyone. Because left untrained, a wizard's life inevitably ended in tragedy. Either their magic went wild and ended up killing them or driving them insane, or they started experimenting with this 'mysterious ability' and killed themselves or worse.

"I am fairly sure that several dozen cases or more a year of people exhibiting out of control magical abilities would cause more problems than teaching them what they need to know to control themselves." Sirius said. "The answer to the so-called Muggleborn problem has never been isolation, or legislating them to within an inch of their lives in an effort to control them and their effect on our world. It's a shame that no one has managed to see that before now."

After that, the wrangling truly began. Harry watched as Lucius and Sirius went at each other over ... well, pretty much everything Sirius had outlined that he wanted to do, the day before. Again and again, Lucius tried to make Sirius look bad, one way or another, but Sirius had clearly been planning this for a while, because he had calm, reasoned answers for every jab. And unless Harry was much mistaken, Sirius looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

And as Harry watched, he saw more and more people not in the Alliance go from neutral or skeptical expressions to thoughtful ones and even an occasional agreeing expression. There was, of course, still the die hard Death Eaters, and Dumbledore's much-shrunken pool of loyal supporters, but it was becoming clear that more and more people were beginning to lean towards agreeing with Sirius. Whether they would actively choose sides or not remained unknown.

Finally, eventually, the session wrapped up, with Sirius and Lucius having hashed out quite a few things in all their arguing. Lucius didn't look too terribly pleased with the results, but Harry wasn't sure if that was play-acting or not. Sirius, on the other hand, was deeply, smugly pleased with how things had played out if the look on his face as they walked out was anything to go by.

They'd been home for less than an hour when Cedrella contacted them, letting them know about Draco. Harry shared a look with Sirius, then sighed and agreed to talk to Draco the next day.

July 7, 1992 Bones Manor

Amelia Bones sighed as she flopped into her favorite chair in the drawing room. The last two days in the Wizengamot had been unexpectedly eye-opening.

Oh, she'd known something was going to happen. How could it not, with Sirius free? Sirius had a hell of an axe to grind with the Wizengamot, and Amelia had foreseen him doing something to spit in their faces for that reason alone when she'd set him loose.

It had been part of the reason she hadn't, thus far, thrown her weight behind the Alliance, the other part being that she had made a point of staying out of the various alliances in the Wizengamot over the years. She hadn't been entirely sure that this wasn't going to be a revenge stunt. But it was clear now that Sirius had more than revenge on his mind. He'd thought this through. Possibly had done so while he was still a student, or more probably, during his long years in Azkaban. Whichever it was, he knew exactly what he wanted, and clearly had at least a fairly good idea of how to get it.

That alone, of course, wasn't enough to get Amelia to sign on. She wasn't famous for her impartiality, incorruptibility and sense of justice for nothing. She wasn't about to put her hat in with someone whose ideals she didn't agree with as close to one hundred percent as humanly possible.

Thing was, Sirius was going after every unjust, unfair thing in the lawbooks that Amelia had always hated, and quite a few she hadn't had the time or energy to waste on hating. His suggestions were reasonable, and almost entirely in line with what Amelia thought.

Better still, from everything Amelia had heard through the grapevine, Sirius had not once attempted to blackmail, frighten, or buy supporters. He may have tailored his recruitment speech according to who he was trying to get to join his cause, but it seemed like he'd only emphasized the parts of his scheme that he knew a person would like best. He hadn't, at least as far as Amelia could tell, lied to anyone about what he was up to. After dealing with the other Wizengamot members, many of whom lied as easily as breathing, the honesty was refreshing, and very appealing.

In short, there was a long list of reasons supporting taking sides, and an incredibly short list of reasons not to. Amelia sighed as she called her house-elf to bring parchment, quill and ink. She'd been putting Lord Black off long enough. It looked like she was going to be picking sides.

July 7, 1992 Buckingham Palace

By the time Elizabeth and Phillip had returned to the palace, it had been entirely too late at night to summon anyone for a meeting right then. Elizabeth had settled for summoning everyone to a meeting just after breakfast in the morning.

As it was to be a working meeting, not a state one, both Elizabeth and Phillip were relatively dressed down, in a suit dress and suit respectively. At nine in the morning precisely, a total of ten people were gathered in one of the smaller, more private meeting rooms near the royal living quarters.

The men and women thus summoned got very grim-faced when they saw the company they were keeping when they arrived. None of them were anywhere near being idiots, and when the Heads of three national anti-terrorism units, the head of MI5, and the Secretary of State of Defense were all present, each with their most trusted subordinates at their sides, it was pretty clear to everyone in the room that something big was going on. Big and nasty.

Elizabeth and Phillip walked in then, seating themselves across from the group.

"We thank you for coming." Elizabeth said. "As you can see by whom has been asked to attend, we have a very serious matter to discuss."

Elizabeth and Phillip took turns explaining the existence (and concealment) of the magical world, providing proof of magic's existence by casting a few spells each. Understandably, there were a lot of questions the gathered company had to ask, so it was well past lunch before Elizabeth and Phillip could get around to the reason for why everyone had been summoned.

"Unfortunately, not all news regarding this matter is good." Elizabeth said. Then she and Phillip explained the Voldemort situation, and the fact that the muggle world would likely come under attack sometime soon.

"We are trusting Lord Black to get the magical world back in line." Elizabeth said. "He seems quite a sensible man, especially given what he has suffered. But we must needs prepare to defend ourselves when these Death Eaters decide to target non-magicals. Which I have been assured by Lord Black will happen, sooner rather than later."

She turned to her Secretary of State of Defense. "Mr. Rifkind, much of the burden of organization shall fall to you, on this matter. We are at your disposal for any further information you require in order to plan an effective defense."

Rifkind nodded, looking grim-faced. He was going to be very, very busy. "I would like to observe at least one battle typical for magic-users." He admitted. "It would aid in knowing how best to organize things and warn your various units without alerting them to what, exactly, they're up against." Because Rifkind completely agreed with keeping the existence of magic from general knowledge, especially right now. He knew that if people discovered the existence of magic during a magical war, they'd come to the conclusion that magic was bad, period. Which would lead to tragedy. If there was to be any chance at all of magicals reintegrating at some point in the future, the discovery of the existence of magic needed to happen when magicals weren't trying to kill each other and any non-magicals that got in their way in the process.

"I'll speak with Lord Black and ensure a demonstration is available as soon as possible." Elizabeth promised. That would, of course, have to wait, as she knew he would be in the Wizengamot right now.

After that, she and Phillip mostly sat back and let the others hash possibilities out among themselves, only speaking up when necessary to provide a bit of information or nudge the group away from an idea they knew wouldn't work. Once evening fell, Elizabeth left long enough to floo-call Sirius.

July 7, 1992 Potter Castle

It was proving to be a very busy day, Harry thought. No sooner had they returned home, than the floo had lit up, with Cedrella calling.

The news that Draco wanted to talk to him, and was willing to take veritaserum, was a bit of a shock, but after a bit of thought about it, Harry decided to agree. Draco had been a complete jerk the first half of the year, it was true, but Harry was willing to believe he'd had a chance of heart, given what had happened to him.

Sirius had sent Toker after Severus, since Severus would know if they had veritaserum and its antidote on hand, and if it was viable (if it was from the Castle's preserved stock), as well as knowing how much to administer. Severus arrived in the Entrance Parlor a few minutes later, and he and Harry departed for Black Manor.

Mere minutes after they'd left, Sirius, much to his surprise, found himself fielding a call from the Queen, which he hadn't expected for at least another couple of days.

"Of course, your Majesty. We can very easily arrange a dueling demonstration. The only question would be where to do it." Sirius thought things over. He didn't want to bring so many people to Potter Castle, and Black Manor didn't have anywhere big enough for a duel. But if he recalled correctly, the Potters had a farming property that would be ideal ... plenty of room to move, and easily hidden from outside eyes, if it wasn't already. "I think I have a place in mind, but I need to make sure. Hang on just a moment." Sirius pulled his head out of the floo and then called for Toker.

"Toker." He said once the Head elf had appeared. "Am I right in thinking that the Potters have a good-sized farming property somewhere?"

"Yes, Master Sirius, you is right." Toker said. "They is having several."

"Oh, even better. Are any of them laying fallow right now?" Sirius asked.

Toker thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, two of them is, Master Sirius."

"Excellent, where are those two, and how big are they?"

Toker told him, and Sirius thanked him, then returned to the fire to tell Elizabeth where the demonstration could take place.

"Whenever is convenient for your advisors is fine ... I can get a group of people together for a demonstration very quickly." Sirius said.

Elizabeth nodded. "Let us plan for tomorrow, then, as my advisors need this information to plan appropriately."

Sirius nodded. "You got it. I'll send word out yet tonight, see who can come play tomorrow."

"Our thanks, Lord Black. Until tomorrow." Elizabeth said, then removed herself from the fire.

Less than an hour after that, Sirius received Amelia's owl, with her agreement to take sides with the Alliance. Sirius whooped and did a war-dance around the office where the owls delivered mail, grinning like a fiend. He had done something no one else had ever managed ... got Amelia to take sides. That was one hell of a coup, especially since he hadn't done a damn thing to force it. He'd contacted her the once and then backed off, let her make up her own mind.

Dumbledore was going to have kittens.

July 7, 1992 Black Manor

Harry hadn't quite been sure what to expect when he and Severus arrived at Black Manor, but Cedrella and Draco sitting calmly in one of the parlors, having a late tea and, apparently, quite civil conversation, hadn't been it.

"Hello Cedrella." Harry greeted her, then took a breath. "And Draco."

"Lord Potter, Professor Snape." Cedrella and Draco both said, their words overlapping one another.

Harry sat down, as did Severus. "Severus brought the veritaserum, but I'd like to do this without it." Harry said.

Draco nodded. "I really don't plan on lying to you anyway, so I appreciate that." He'd hoped Harry wouldn't use the stuff, but had been prepared to deal with it if he had.

"Basically, there is no way on this earth I am ever becoming a Death Eater, or going to help them accomplish their aims." Draco said, then shuddered. "Not after that bedamned spell. I can't lie and tell you I think muggleborns are best or anything like that, but ... " Draco grimaced and trailed off.

"But believing purebloods are best is very different from running around torturing and killing muggleborns." Harry said, which had Draco nodding. "Fair enough."

"I do want to help you, though." Draco said. "And I think I have a good idea how. You're ... well, you. And a Gryffindor to boot. The vast majority of the kids whose parents were Death Eaters won't come anywhere near you, even if they're having second thoughts." Draco snorted. "And they won't approach Professor Snape about it, either. At least, not right now. Everyone in Slytherin realizes he's changed sides, but most of them are convinced it's some sort of trick, that Professor Snape's actually only pretending to be on your side, so that he can snatch you up and deliver you to the Dark Lord at the first opportunity."

"And if that is true, speaking to me of their concerns would be dangerous." Professor Snape said with a nod. "I had assumed such was the case."

"But I'm one of them. I can talk to them, and they might just listen. And I can listen in on them, find out who's wavering and who's totally loyal." Draco said. "I may even be able to sway a few to your side ... it's not like our parents were all that honest about what they were required to do as Death Eaters. Finding out the truth would shake quite a few of them up."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"But that brings us to a big problem." Draco said. "Because while the kids may be wavering, or not wanting to serve Voldemort, their parents might be wholly loyal. And trying to buck their parents will not go well."

"Which means some or all of them will need somewhere safe to spend summers at least until they're seventeen." Harry said. "And some may well need money to get started in life, if their parents decide to disown them." He nodded. "I can do that. I have a bunch of properties they can stay at. I'd have to talk to Sirius about getting them set up for long-term occupation but that wouldn't take long ... it'd be ready by the time school starts again." He shot Draco a look. "I wouldn't be willing to shell out thousands of galleons per person, but I'd be happy to give anyone that needs it enough to get started with, either that or free room and board at one of my properties until they get a job. All they'd have to do in return is give an oath to not aid Voldemort or any of his supporters in any way."

Draco nodded. "That's fair." He agreed. "I can spread the word on that with those that might be interested."

Harry considered for a few moments, then finally offered. "Draco ... you could come to the Castle, if you want? Fair warning, the twins are living there, since they're Severus' apprentices, and most of the other Weasleys will be in and out."

Draco grimaced a bit. Weasleys. Faugh. But then again ... as with serving Voldemort, the Malfoy-Weasley feud wasn't his doing. That had been Septimus Weasley and his father, and Draco actually had no clue why the two of them hated each other so. Lucius refused to speak of it, and Draco hadn't exactly had uninterrupted, uncontested access to anyone other than his mother that might know what had happened. and if she knew, she wasn't talking either.

Besides, they couldn't be all bad. Professor Snape would not have apprenticed the twins unless they had true merit, and the oldest two boys had, by all accounts, begun to do well for themselves. Really, the only problem would be the youngest boy, Harry's dorm mate. And if Draco had read the situation right, that particular Weasley would not be about much. For one, there didn't seem to be much in the way of friendship between Harry and the Weasley, merely tolerance. And secondly, that Weasley was a lazy lout who would be disinclined to anything even remotely resembling scholastic effort during the summer. So Draco would probably be dealing primarily with the more tolerable Weasleys, of the children. And staying here, with just himself, Cedrella, and two house elves for company would drive him insane in short order. Oh, speaking of!

"Would Nippy, my house-elf, be permitted to enter the Castle?" Draco asked.

Harry grimaced. "I'd have to talk to Sirius and Toker, our head elf, about that. If she was allowed in, she'd be limited in what she could do and where she could go." Because Harry was not thrilled with the idea of letting an elf that was bound to someone else have free reign in the Castle.

"Fair enough." Draco said.

Harry nodded. "I'll talk things over with Sirius, and let you know what's going on tomorrow." He sighed. "And we'd better get going. We've got another long day tomorrow, at this rate."

They all said their goodbyes and headed out. Once they were back in the Castle, Harry turned to Severus.

"What do you think?" He asked.

Severus cocked an eyebrow. "Why are you asking me?" He wanted to know.

"Because you're a Slytherin, and know how they think, and I don't." Harry said. "Besides, you saw more of him last year than I did. So you know him a bit better."

Severus gave an amused snort. "He is sincere." He said. "He was being positively transparent, for a Slytherin, but I imagine he realized that he had more to gain with full honesty than with word games."

Harry nodded. "All right. I'll talk to Sirius and then we'll figure out where to go from there." He said, then headed off to find his godfather, and his familiar, since he'd left Hedwig at the Castle because of her dislike of floo travel (and she'd already had to travel by floo twice today).

He found Sirius in the third-floor family room, on one of the couches closest to their rooms and the portrait of Harry's parents, talking quietly with James. Harry flopped down next to him, and waved at the portrait.

"Hi dad."

"Hello, Harry. Long day?" James asked, looking faintly amused at Harry's loose-limbed exhaustion.

Harry lifted a hand lazily to pet Hedwig when she flew in and landed on the back of the couch by his head. "Like you wouldn't believe." Harry said. "Wizengamot, talking with Draco Malfoy ... yeesh."

"Add in talking to the queen again, and getting a letter from Amelia Bones saying she's willing to side with us." Sirius said.

Harry sat up a bit, looking surprised. "Really? But I thought you said she never took sides, and that you didn't think she'd take sides now?"

"I did." Sirius said. "I guess she liked what she was hearing in the Wizengamot yesterday and today, or something." Sirius said.

"So what did the Queen want?" Harry asked.

"She wanted to set up a dueling demonstration." Sirius said. "For her advisors, so they know what they're going to be up against. I've already contacted most of the Alliance, and about three-fourths of them are available. We're going to be heading to one of your properties, a farm that's lying fallow, tomorrow for the demonstration."

"Cool. Can us kids come watch? We're probably going to need to know, ourselves." Harry pointed out.

Sirius grimaced. "Don't remind me. But yes, you can come. The others will have to ask their parents or guardians if they can come." He reached over and ruffled Harry's hair. "So what did Draco want?"

"Not all that much, really. Just to let me know that he wasn't ever going to go anywhere near the Death Eaters, which I had sort of already guessed. He'd have to have been terminally stupid to join them after what Barty did to him."

"Agreed." Sirius said. "Anything else?"

"He offered to be the go-between for the kids of Death Eaters." Harry said. "But he pointed out that some of them were going to need a safe haven if they changed sides, because some of their parents would not approve of that at all."

Sirius nodded. "Very true. That'd be easy enough to set up. You've got a number of properties going begging. I can have Bill start going over them, see which ones are the best ones for the purpose."

Harry nodded. "I thought so. I did tell Draco that they'd have to make an oath not to help Voldie or his supporters, and that if they did, they'd get the safe haven, and any of them that got disowned would either get free room and board until they got a job, or a small sum to get them started with."

Sirius nodded again. "That'll get quite a few more considering switching. Having a viable way out, and a chance at a future, rather than ending up on the streets, would make it far more tempting."

"I offered to let him stay here." Harry said. "Staying at the manor alone is bound to drive him bonkers. He asked if it would be possible for his house elf Nippy to come here."

Sirius frowned. "I'd have to talk to Toker. I'm fairly sure there's ways to limit a strange elf's movements, but I can't remember what they are offhand. Speaking of ... we haven't seen hide nor hair of that Dobby character since the other day. I wonder what he's up to?"

"Malfoy freed him, so it could be anything." Harry said.


	9. Defense and Dragons

Defense and Dragons

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 18, 1992 Buckingham Palace

Malcolm Rifkind had had a very, very busy week and a half.

He'd had a long and very successful career thus far. One he had not honestly expected, when he'd first stood in Parliment in 1974. He'd not quite had the gumption to dream he'd come so far and accomplish so much in his entire life, nevermind in less than two decades.

He'd known that being Secretary of State of Defense would be his greatest challenge. He'd faced some stiff opposition from certain quarters already, despite only being in office for a few months. Now, though, that opposition seemed small change in the face of what he had discovered in the last week and a half, and was being asked to do.

Formulating a viable means of defense against magical terrorists was an unprecedented challenge, but Malcolm had discovered that he rather liked it. Liked having to think outside the box and come up with a solution to a problem none of his predecessors had faced.

The combat demonstration Lord Black had arranged had been ... most informative. At the very least, it would be blatantly obvious when a magical fight was taking place, thus making it easier to ascertain when they needed to get people to safety. If the flashes of colored light didn't tip off the local constabulary, the truly ridiculous clothing would.

Formulating an explanation for the mayhem that made the situation seem dire enough for the constables to obey the 'get everyone, including yourselves, out of the area' order without question, without mentioning magic, had proved to be an interesting exercise. Getting the various intelligence operatives to keep their ears open for certain key words, again without explaining magic, had been another challenge.

Now all they had to do was figure out how to fight, rather than depending on running and hiding. That, unfortunately, was going to be almost entirely in the hands of Lord Black and his allies, as nothing the United Kingdom currently had provided protection from magical assault except for solid wood, brick, concrete or metal walls and tank armor. None of which was easily transportable to where they might be needed. Not even personal armor had been proof against some of the nastier spells, though Rifkind had been given to understand that the one spell, at least, had no magical counter except for blocking it with something very thick and solid.

It would take time to ensure that the various precincts would be on the lookout and report promptly. Rifkind just hoped they had enough time, since from what Lord Black had told them, things were going to explode sooner rather than later.

He settled at the desk in the office that the Queen had allotted him for the duration of this crisis, as she had wanted him close by, as her liaison to the other official in the know. His presence in and about the palace would be fairly unremarkable, due to his office, while the others being seen coming in and out regularly would raise eyebrows.

He was delighted to find a rolled-up scroll of paper (actual paper, not parchment) with the Black Family seal on them sitting on top of several other reports and memos. The scroll bore unexpected dividends. A week and a half ago, the idea of obtaining pictures of the various known so-called Death Eaters had been raised, and Lord Black had agreed that it would be wise to have them available, and would see to obtaining some.

And now here they were, each set of photographs neatly labeled and attached to a report that gave the person's name, age, general combat ability, known crimes committed, and current status (Supposedly dead, at large, incarcerated, or unknown). Given that at least one Death Eater everyone had thought was dead was, in fact alive, Lord Black had evidently decided to err on the side of caution and assume nothing in regards to any of the Death Eaters.

Malcolm gave a pleased hum, and immediately pulled up the form for 'Wanted' posters on his computer. It would take perhaps an hour or so to transfer the necessary information, and translate the magical crimes to a mundane equivalent. From there, it would be a simple matter to distribute the posters and have the entire island on the lookout for Death Eaters.

There was a note from Lord Black, apologizing for the delay, and confirming he had been unable to find photographs of two or three Death Eaters on such short notice, and that he'd send them along as soon as he'd found them. He also reassured Malcolm that his allies were working on the problem of protecting muggles from magic, but that it would probably be some time before there was any success.

July 17, 1992 Potter Castle

Harry had been looking forward to this trip since Charlie had first mentioned it way back around Christmastime. Not that Charlie had talked about much of anything except dragons. Not that Harry blamed him! It was pretty clear some amazing things were happening at the Romanian reserve. Better still, almost every reserve on the planet was now starting to try to work with their dragons, though they were having variable rates of success.

It helped that it was going to be just Harry, Hedwig and Sirius on this trip. Harry was looking forward to a weekend of having Sirius to himself. Sirius had even promised to ignore the various plots, plans, and duties that had been dividing his attention all summer thus far, unless of course there was a big attack. But it was looking like that wasn't going to happen, because the Death Eaters had gone quiet. Lucius had even confirmed that it was by Voldemort's order, which meant the chances of anyone launching an attack were nil. And the initial furor in the Wizengamot had settled down. It all made this a perfect time to get away and spend some concentrated time together.

Harry grinned as he tossed a few heavy shirts into the rucksack he was taking with him to Romania. Sirius had reminded him that even though it was summer, the reserve was in the mountains, where it would be a good deal cooler, especially at night. Not cool enough for jumpers, certainly, but Harry figured a few thick shirts wouldn't go amiss.

/Looking forward to this, Hedwig?/ Harry asked.

/As long as those dragons don't mistake me for a tasty tidbit, yes./

/Are you ... nervous, Hedwig?/ Harry couldn't quite decide whether to be amused or not.

/A bit. They are dragons, after all./

/Point. But don't worry. As long as you stay with me you should be fine. They haven't shown aggression to people in months, now./

/And Charlie got to ride Seren. Even if it was completely unplanned./ Hedwig sounded very amused.

Harry didn't much blame her, as he started snickering. /He was so excited he was making no sense when he floo called about that, according to Sirius!/ Harry had missed that particular announcement, as it had come after he'd unraveled Severus' Dark Mark and collapsed into unconsciousness.

/He most definitely was./ Hedwig said. While she'd been watching over an unconscious Harry and hadn't heard the news directly herself, it had been a bit hard to miss Sirius' hilarity at, and imitation of, Charlie's incoherence.

/Well, I think that's all we'll need for the next couple days. We'd better head for bed. We're getting up at the crack of dawn tomorrow in order to get to the preserve by nine am their time./

July 18, 1992 Romanian Dragon Reserve

The only part of this whole trip that Harry was not at all thrilled about was the fact they'd be going by portkey. Being side-along apparated was bad enough. Sirius' description of portkey travel made it sound about a hundred times worse.

Sirius, true to his morning-hating standard, was still half-asleep standing up and yawning despite two cups of strong tea when they headed out the front gate of the Castle, to get beyond the castle's wards so they could portkey when the time came. Harry couldn't quite restrain a snicker at Sirius' sleepiness. Thus far, the only time Sirius had been awake and coherent before about ten in the morning had been Christmas morning.

Sirius gave Harry a mildly exasperated look when he caught Harry's amusement. "Just remember, pup. I'll be the one laughing in about five minutes."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Portkeys are horrible. Especially international portkeys. I heard you the first three times."

Sirius waved the old, worn belt that was their portkey at him. "Well, grab on then. That goes double for you, Hedwig. We don't want to lose you somewhere over the continent if you lose your grip."

Hedwig gave Sirius an indignant cackle and actually stuck her tongue out at him, which had Harry doubling over in laughter. Sirius mock-grumbled under his breath and smiled as he shook his head. Harry sobered enough to grab the belt after a moment or two.

A minute later, they were off.

Sirius hadn't been kidding. International portkeys were hell. Harry ended up on his knees, clinging to the ground, waiting for the world to stop spinning so fast and obscurely grateful that he wasn't prone to throwing up when dizzy or he'dve been in real trouble. For that matter, he was grateful that he wasn't as prone to getting dizzy as some (otherwise he'd never be able to pull off the maneuvers he did on a broom) because if he had been ... ugh.

After a minute, Harry was able to get to his feet and look around. His eyes went wide and he let out a soft 'oh'.

The view was more than making up for the means of getting there.

The Romanian reserve was located in the heart of the Carpathian Ranges, right smack in the center of Romania, situated between Tigru Mures, Piatra-Neamf, Brasov and Focsani and roughly 300 square kilometers of mountains, hills, and forest. Most of the preserve was uninhabited, of course. Dragons required rather large territories to keep from starting fights with each other even, which meant the Romanian preserve was home to about a dozen dragons, only three of whom were nesting females.

Near the center of the preserve, well away from any muggle populations, were the hunting grounds, where cattle, deer, and other large prey animals were penned and tended by the keepers. This was also where the keepers' living quarters were, as well as medical facilities for both man and beast.

Harry had known all this, of course, but knowing the facts did not really convey the reality. The fact was, the dragon reserve was smack in the middle of some of the most wild, rugged ... and flat-out gorgeous terrain Harry had ever seen. He stared around in awe for a few moments, getting a good look at the layout of the area.

They'd landed in the central settlement, which qualified as a small village, with almost five hundred people in it. All the residents worked with dragons in one capacity or another, except for the Healers that dealt with humans. The buildings were all sturdy stone, with few (and small) windows to help protect against possible flaming. Even the fence for the herd of food animals was stone. The main street was unusually wide, probably to allow for the passage of a dragon, as the dragon infirmary was on one end of the street and the feeding grounds on the other. Harry wondered at the reason for that for a moment, before he realized that the herds would never get any rest if a dragon was hanging about right outside their pastures all the time.

"Ok, I can see what Charlie likes about living out here." Harry finally said. "It's gorgeous."

"Agreed." Sirius said.

Just then Charlie walked out of the nearest building, waving one hand above his head. "Hallo. Right on time. You make it ok, Harry? I think this is your first time on an international, isn't it?" He asked as he closed the distance between them.

"Yeah it was. It wasn't fun, but I'm fine now." Harry said, grinning and ducking when Charlie tried to ruffle his hair when he got in range. "Hey, quit that! My hair's snarled enough. Why does everyone try to snarl it up worse?" He mock-whined.

"Because it's sort of irresistible." Sirius said. "So you're just going to have to live with it."

Charlie laughed, then shook hands with Sirius before nodding to Hedwig. "Hello, Hedwig. You having any luck keeping this lot in line?"

"Oh, you're one to talk." Sirius said, while Hedwig crackled in amusement. "How much trouble do you get into on a daily basis, again?"

"None." Charlie said, while trying to look innocent, which wasn't working.

"Exactly." Sirius said with a snort.

"Anyway, let's get you two settled. There's a few rooms free in the building next to mine, so you'll be plenty close."

Their rooms proved to be pretty nice, which made sense since the dragon handlers lived here full time. Expecting them to live in dinky little rooms wasn't a bright idea. It was nowhere near the size of his room at the castle, but Harry hadn't been expecting anything anywhere near that grand. Once their rucksacks had been deposited and their things unpacked (the reserve had no house elves), they joined the handlers, healers, and herders for breakfast in the communal kitchen across the street.

Harry was surprised to note that the handlers seemed to all have fairly similar personalities and temperaments ... which reminded him of Hagrid, just a bit, in that they were a bit on the loud and boisterous side, even if none of them could ever match him in sheer size.

The air in the kitchen was electric, and pretty much everyone was visibly excited. It turned out that the reason for that was that the various plans for saddles for the dragons had finally been completed and delivered. And after Charlie's impromptu flight a few days before, the possibility of a controlled flight had increased almost exponentially, though from the good natured arguments, there was nothing like a consensus on how to accomplish such a thing, or how long it would take. Harry saw more than a few handfuls of coins changing hands as various people bet on the outcome.

"Seren's the favorite for a first controlled flight, of course." Charlie said, when he'd looked where Harry was and seen the betting going on. "He's consistently been the first to do something since we started this, at least of the adult dragons. We're not sure if it's because he's the youngest of the chosen dragons, the fact he's a Welsh Green, or both."

"Why would him being a Welsh Green matter?" Harry wanted to know.

"Welsh Greens are one of the calmer breeds." Charlie said.

**Well, that definitely makes sense then** Harry mused. "Can we meet him?"

"We can try, but you might have to settle for seeing him from a distance. He may be doing things first, but he also happens to be one of the dragons that's rather picky about who gets to approach him. Every time someone other than his team even thinks about it, he throws a fit. There are several that aren't picky, though, so you'll definitely get a chance to get up close."

"Do you really think I might be able to talk to them?" Harry asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Honestly? Not really. But it can't possibly hurt. And I could be wrong. They're definitely smarter than we ever gave them credit for, before this, with how fast they've been picking things up.

Charlie gave them a quick tour of the settlement, then Apparated them both (one by one) to a spot closer to Seren's sleeping spot.

"You'd be walking for days if you tried to hike it." Charlie told them. "But apparating real close to the dragons was never a good idea before, hence landing a bit away from known resting spots. We haven't changed that yet, since we're not sure how the dragons would take us popping in and out."

Charlie led the way towards Seren's spot, and motioned for them to stay out of sight around the curve of the hill while he went on to go greet Seren and, maybe, manage to get Seren to tolerate their presence long enough for a good look at him.

HPHPHP

Seren thrummed happily when he spotted Charlie. The thrum was less noise and more vibration, carrying through the rock of Seren's sleeping spot and rattling Charlie's bones.

"Hey, big guy. Happy to see you too." Charlie greeted, rubbing Seren's nose as soon as he got in range. Only then did he turn to Calvin, who'd had the night watch with Seren. "Anything come up last night?"

Calvin shook his head. "Naw. At least, not anything new. He did let me use him for a pillow."

Charlie grinned. Since the watches were not about safeguarding the dragons in question, there really wasn't a problem with them falling asleep, at least not now. They'd all ended up snoozing against Seren's side at least once by now, most of them multiple times.

"Well, I've got some friends of mine here who really want to meet him, so we're going to try. Dunno if it's going to work, since Seren's not the biggest fan of visitors." Charlie said. "I'll be right back."

HPHPHP

Charlie headed back to the curve, grinning when Seren let out a distinctly disappointed sounding noise. "All right, let's try this. You'll be safe, he hasn't once tried to flame anyone. He just yells a lot." And even if Seren had been inclined to flame, Charlie being with Harry and Sirius would have helped safeguard them.

The three of them walked around the curve and stopped as soon as Seren was in sight. Seren was staring straight at them when they came around the curve. Charlie figured he'd been able to smell Harry and Sirius even if he hadn't been able to see them.

Seren growled and grumbled and shifted around, clearly displeased at the presence of strangers. "Yeah, ok, that's a no. You guys better head back out of sight." Charlie said. Once they'd disappeared, he walked back over to Seren. "Sorry, big guy. They just wanted to meet you, 'cause I've been bragging about you pretty much nonstop." He said, petting Seren's nose and cheek.

Seren huffed after a few moments and finally relaxed enough to thrum at Charlie again. Charlie grinned. "Right, that's me forgiven. I'll see you later today, ok big guy? I don't have shift until after dinner." He gave Seren one last pat and headed back towards where Harry and Sirius were waiting for him.

HPHPHP

Charlie took them to meet another Welsh Green, this one being one of the ones that wasn't picky about who came around to see him.

"This is Wilbur. Don't ask." He said, seeing their amused faces at the name. "It'll ruin your image of dragons forever."

"If you say so." Sirius said.

Both Sirius and Harry were entranced at being able to actually touch a dragon, and have it not only tolerate their touch but lean into it and encourage it. Harry only managed to drag himself away from Wilbur when his stomach started snarling.

They apparated back to the settlement, both Sirius and Harry grinning like fiends. "I begin to see why you've been so ... enthusiastic about this." Sirius said. "That was ... incredible. To put it mildly."

"Agreed." Harry said. /It's safe, Hedwig. You can come join us now!/

Hedwig soon flew in, drawing the attention of a few of the settlement residents.

"Gorgeous owl, kid." One of them called.

"Familiar, actually." Harry said, grinning widely as Hedwig fluffed and preened at the praise. "Her name's Hedwig."

"Familiar? Really? You're young for it. Hasn't been someone your age with a familiar in a long time." The speaker said, coming over to greet Hedwig properly. "Hullo there, Hedwig."

Hedwig cackled at him in greeting, then preened Harry's hair. /Tell him hello, and thank you for the compliment./

Harry snickered a bit. "She says hello back, and thank you for the compliment."

The man grinned. "You're welcome." He said, and then headed back to his table and his lunch.

Lunch passed swiftly enough, and then Harry headed back out, heading for the feeding grounds, where he would have a chance of seeing some of the other dragons in the reserve as they came in to feed. Charlie and Sirius joined him after a bit, and the three of them talked for a while.

Then, very quietly, Charlie said. "Stay very still."

Harry turned to look at him, wondering at Charlie's wary tone, when a massive shadow swept over them, followed a few moments later by a positively enormous metallic gray dragon. A Romanian Longhorn that had been feeding at one edge of the big pasture abruptly dropped the carcass it had been munching on and took wing, heading away as fast as it could move as the big gray dragon circled slowly, clearly choosing a target.

The gray dragon swooped low enough that Harry swore the tall grass was tickling its belly, and snapped up a cow ... then bowled over a second one that wasn't fast enough to get away as it landed ... hard enough to make the ground shake. Now that it was on the ground, Harry could see a number of scars across the dragon's face, wings and tail.

"What ... " He almost whispered.

"That's the General." Charlie said, keeping his voice quiet. "Ukranian Ironbelly. He's pretty much a legend. Confirmed to be at least five hundred years old. At least, that's as far back as records of him go. We're fairly sure he's a good deal older than that, because he had all those scars back then. Must have been one hell of a fight ... probably with another Ironbelly, since not much else can hurt that breed, even now, nevermind five hundred years ago. He's pretty much the acknowledged lord and master of the entire continent. Every other dragon gets the hell out of his way when he shows up. And so do we. No one's inclined to piss off something that big and that old."

"I can't say I blame you." Sirius said softly. "He's big enough to eat a human in one bite and then go looking for something more substantial to snack on."

"Exactly." Charlie said. "He's been making everyone nervous, though, because he's been hanging around quite a bit since the attempt to work with dragons started. He and a few other older dragons that come and go as they please because we really don't have any means to stop them."

Having finished his meal, the General turned, clearly preparing to fly out of the pasture. But he turned in such a way that he looked straight at the trio of humans watching him. They all froze, though Sirius managed to tangle one hand in Harry's shirt, fully planning to apparate the hell out of there if the dragon showed any sign of taking umbrage at their presence.

[[So curious]]

It took Harry a few moments to understand the words. It was like the General was speaking a little-used dialect ... with a heavy accent, just to make the words more difficult to understand. But Harry did manage to understand it, after a moment. His eyes went big.

[[You can speak!]] He said.

The General literally reared back in surprise, massive wings sweeping forward to help him keep his balance before he dropped forward again, bracing his front half on the joints of his wings like a bat would, as he didn't have front legs like most of the other breeds of dragon.

[[You speak! Long time since ... spoke!]]

Harry missed one of the words, which he presumed was 'human' or the equivalent.

"Haaaaaaaaarry." Sirius hissed, fighting the urge to apparate.

"'sok, Sirius. He can talk. It's ... kind of garbled. Like trying to understand someone who's speaking with a heck of an accent."

[[Why do ... change how they treat us?]] The General asked.

Oh boy. Now that was a loaded question. [[We want to be friends.]] He said. [[Easier. Less death for all]] He opted for keeping it simple, since he wasn't sure how much of what he was saying the General understood, given he was having problems understanding the General.

[[What friends?]]

Whoops. How to explain that concept to an animal? Damn, this was going to be tricky. [[Not enemies. Work together for good of all]] Harry finally settled on. It was the best he could come up with on the spur of the moment.

The General padded closer, which made Sirius start to back up and drag Harry with him, before he caught himself and forced himself to stay still.

[[Afraid of us]]

[[You're big.]] Harry pointed out. [[And not known.]] Not to mention dangerous as hell, but Harry decided not to say that.

The General seemed to accept that, and then seemed to lose interest in them, turning and padding away again before launching himself back into the sky.

"Holy shit." Charlie whimpered. "I think I need new pants. What was that all about, Harry?"

"He just wanted to know why things had changed. I tried to get it across that we wanted to play nice with the dragons. Not sure how much of it got through. He was really hard to understand."

"Considering I didn't think you'd be able to talk to any of them at all? I'll take 'hard to understand'. I just wish it had been a less intimidating dragon you could talk to." Charlie said.

July 17, 1992 Potter Castle

Severus had decided to take full advantage of Black's absence from the castle. To say their relationship had not improved was an understatement. They continued to exist in a rather shaky state of suspicious, wary truce. As such, Severus avoided Black whenever humanly possible, which made some of the experimenting he wanted (and now needed) to do a bit tricky.

Severus and the twins had been working since the start of summer, of course, on various things. The twins were making remarkable progress, and even seemed to be steadying somewhat under Severus' guidance. They'd neither of them cease to be pranksters anytime soon, but were slowly beginning to lose the wild, uncontrolled edge they'd had their entire lives.

Since the chat with the Queen, and the resultant conferences and meetings and questions, Severus, Filius, Remus and the twins had taken on the challenge of figuring out a viable way of protecting the muggle constabulary and military forces that would be responding to Death Eater attacks from as many spells and potions as possible.

It had involved a lot of research thus far, with the high likelihood of more to come, and a lot of experimenting with possible potions and spells. Severus had been having the time of his life, really. He'd done more than a bit of spell creating back during his school days, and dusting off those skills and using them again had been rather fun, not to mention the experimenting with potions.

Thus far they had a dozen possible solutions, all of them things that were applied to clothing, as some sort of armor had been the best method of protection under the circumstances, as the armor could be spelled and then used repeatedly, compared to having to apply spells or potions to a person directly multiple times.

Still, at this early stage they had no idea if any of the combinations would work, so Severus had decided to spend the day in the dueling chamber on the second floor with Remus, Filius, and the twins, to see which, if any, of the prepared shirts they'd done up for a first try held up.

Filius came through just after breakfast, bouncing merrily on the balls of his feet, clearly looking forward to this as much as Severus was.

"Filius." Severus greeted.

"Severus. Looking forward to the trials?"

"As much as you are, I believe." Severus admitted.

He'd slowly begun to unwind a bit around Minerva and Filius, thanks to their alliance against Dumbledore this last year. Hell, for that matter, he'd unwound a bit period. He supposed that was the result of finally having a life outside of spying, and, now, of finally being completely free of both the bastards that had controlled his life for so long. With both of them completely unaware of his freedom. It was the sort of thing that warmed his Slytherin heart.

That he now was free and clear to bring both men to their knees was something he had long since given up all hope of. He fully intended to make very sure Voldemort at least learned the depths of his wrath. This task was but a small part of that.

Filius smiled at him and they headed up to the dueling chamber, where the twins and Remus had already adjourned, bringing the box of shirts to be tested with them.

It was but the work of moments to get the first shirt onto one of the practice dummies that stood at one end of the dueling room, then everyone backed up, and, as a precaution, shielded themselves. After all, they weren't sure what would happen with their various attempts at magical protection. They all looked good, to various degrees, on parchment, but that was no guarantee of a smooth, successful test in real life.

The three teachers spent the next half hour throwing a specific chain of spells, each more dangerous than the last, at each shirt until the shirts failed and the dummies took damage. Two of the shirts failed with the second or third spell, meaning those attempts would be discarded entirely. The rest managed to hang on through at least five spells. One shirt managed to last for seven, making it the winner of the first attempts.

"It's still not strong enough to hold up against the sorts of spells Death Eaters use." Filius said, staring at the now-damaged winning shirt. "But it's definitely a start. I just wish it was possible to include dragon or basilisk hide in the design, as that would solve about half our problems."

"More like three quarters." Remus agreed. "But there's not enough dragon hide on the planet to outfit everyone that'd need it, and there's no way anyone's going to slaughter a living dragon to get more. Not now."

"Nor should they." Filius agreed. "I'm incredibly glad that raising dragons for slaughter stopped so long ago."

"As is everyone that knows they're that smart, now." Remus agreed. "So, any ideas for strengthening this particular combination?" He asked.

Severus considered it for a few moments. "Actually, I may have a viable possibility. Dragon and basilisk hide may be beyond our grasp, but shed basilisk skin is only marginally less effective than the hide attached to the living beast."

Filius and Remus followed that thought to its obvious conclusion. "And through Harry, we happen to have access to a basilisk that's been alive for a thousand years. The sheer amount of shed skin that thing has to have produced by now boggles the mind." Filius said. "Maybe enough to do at least partial armor. Chest and back, at least, for either everyone or nearly everyone."

"That sounds like it may be a plan." Severus said with a nod. "In the meantime, we should continue working on an effective block for the rest of the armor, and to reinforce the basilisk sections, since they will be shed skin, and thus not as impervious to harm as hide."


	10. General Eyes

General Eyes

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

July 18, 1992 Romania

Curled on a patch of rock above and to the north of the dragon reserve's main settlement, the Ukrainian Ironbelly known as the General watched the activity below.

The General was not, as the various wranglers believed, male. She was female. Dragons, like birds, were egg-layers. That meant that the females tended to be larger than the males. Even if she had been aware of their error, she would have forgiven them. It wasn't like any of them were going to walk up to her and examine her to ascertain her sex, after all.

The General was one of the oldest of a notoriously long-lived species, a very unique long-lived species. Long ago, in a time before humans first walked the world, there was a great serpent. This creature was the common ancestor of snakes and several other reptilian species, including dragons. The first dragons only had back legs and wings. Eventually, there was an evolutionary shift, and dragons with four legs and wings - among other changes - appeared. Over time, the four-legged dragons overwhelmed their more primitive predecessors and wiped them out; except for the Ironbelly. With its incredibly tough, fire-resistant hide and enormous size, the Ironbelly managed to survive where its fellows could not. The fact that the Ironbelly exhibited behavior not seen in the modern dragon breeds assisted its continued survival as well.

In general, the modern dragons managed to coexist fairly peacefully, and did not engage in attacks on each other, or hunt each other. The same could not be said for Ironbellies. Ironbellies bullied the smaller dragons from their territories and off their kills. They also actively hunted for nests, destroying what eggs they could find. Similarly, very young dragons were also frequent prey for adult Ironbellies.

Nor did they spare themselves. Ironbellies were rare. There were perhaps a hundred or so Ironbellies worldwide at any given time. There was a reason for this. Unlike with most of the other dragon breeds, only the strongest of the Ironbellies bred.

Modern dragons laid perhaps a dozen eggs at most and, baring disaster, all eggs laid eventually became breeding adults. Ironbellies, on the other hand, laid up to forty eggs and were lucky to have two survivors live long enough to breed. From the moment of hatching, dragonets were at war with their siblings, competing ruthlessly. As a result, less than half the number of hatchlings survived to escape the nest.

The slaughter did not end there either. Ironbellies, unlike the other dragons, sloughed their skins at intervals as they grew, as their incredibly tough scales did not permit for growth past a certain point. Their rate of growth was thus slow compared to other dragons. They grew to roughly twenty feet in length in their first year. After that, they took centuries to reach full size.

During this period, males and females alike were in constant danger of death. They had to avoid each other, first and foremost, as they competed viciously for food. The older, fully grown Ironbellies did not tolerate the youngsters' existence, and would kill any they could. The largest of the modern dragon breeds could successfully kill a very young Ironbelly in a fight. They also had to avoid humans for most of history, as humans both magical and non-magical had hunted dragons for millennia.

When they reached roughly three or four hundred years of age and had grown to full size, things did not improve all that much. This is due to the fact that while they were large enough to be immune to attacks from humans and other dragon breeds, they were still vulnerable to their own kind. They also, at this stage, began the long, bloody process of establishing themselves as breeding adults.

That meant a lot of fighting. Females had to defeat and usually killing an elder breeding female, then take over her territory. They then had to defend that territory against other competitors. The males had to fight amongst themselves to establish territories and pecking order. Once that was established, they had to fight with the females to earn the right to sire their next clutch.

The trade-off for the life of brutality was that, for several hundred years, fully grown Ironbellies were the masters of all they surveyed. In their prime, they had nothing to fear but a small handful of their own kind that were close enough in age, size, and prowess to be a threat. Additionally, with such long lives, they eventually become the next best thing to sapient, though no wizard had ever figured that out.

The General had encountered a parselmouth before, roughly seven hundred years ago. She'd been very young at the time and was hiding in the Himalayas from the various threats a young Ironbelly faced. A wizard had stumbled across her small cave and managed to talk his way out of getting barbecued and eaten. She'd left the area for a safer hideaway as soon as the man left and had never encountered another parselmouth again, until today.

She, like several other old dragons, had been watching the abrupt shift in human behavior over the last half a year or so. While she was long past the age where humans were a threat to her, she still kept an eye on them just in case.

According to the human, the change was because they were trying to work together with the dragons. For the General, this was a completely foreign concept. Still, it seemed to be benefiting the lesser dragons, so she continued to watch. Since the humans kept prey in groups out in the open, it was hardly a hardship for her. All she had to do was refrain from hunting the smaller dragons and their nests and her presence would be tolerated.

/Harry. I had a thought./ Hedwig said just before dusk that evening.

/Oh?/ Harry asked.

/Remember me telling you it was possible to see through my eyes?/

/No, actually./ Harry admitted. So much had happened since he'd met Hedwig that he could barely remember those first few weeks now, or so it seemed. /I can do that?/

/Yes./ Hedwig told him. /This would be a perfect time to try it./

/Ok./ Harry said. /Any idea how to do it?/

/Not precisely./ Hedwig admitted. /I just know it can be done./

Harry frowned slightly as he got comfortable next to Sirius. The two of them had just returned to their room from dinner. "Sirius, I'm going to be trying something with Hedwig, so I'm *not* asleep, even if my eyes are closed, ok?"

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "Ok, kiddo." He said.

Harry closed his eyes and felt along his bond with Hedwig. For several long moments, nothing seemed to happen. Then, suddenly, he was ... well, not seeing through Hedwig's eyes that was for sure. But ... hearing her thoughts and emotions? That fit better. Normally, Harry only got thoughts and feelings Hedwig projected his way, and he assumed it was the same for her. Right now, though, he was getting a lot more than that. While he wasn't perceiving anything through her senses, he was 'hearing' her catalogue everything she saw, heard, and smelled. Layered over that was a whole raft of thoughts about him, all of them laced with a myriad of emotions. Layered over *that* was an ever-changing litany of thoughts on other subjects, also laced with emotions. Everything was going by so fast that Harry could barely get a sense of what any one thing might be before it flickered out of 'sight' and he lost it in the background noise.

To say it was confusing and overwhelming was to understate the case. Harry more or less fell out of Hedwig's mind, unable to maintain the concentration necessary to hold that level of contact under the barrage he was being subjected to. He blinked his eyes open.

"Whoa. That was something else." He muttered.

Sirius, who'd apparently been watching him out of the corner of his eye, immediately spoke up. "What was?" He wanted to know.

"I was trying to see through Hedwig's eyes." Harry told him. "Didn't manage it, but I *did* get deeper into her mind, and could hear everything she was thinking and feeling, rather than just what she projected at me."

Sirius gave a low whistle. "Yeah, that would be a bit much." He agreed. "You all right?"

Harry thought about it for a second. "Seem to be." He said. "I've got a bit of a headache but nothing more than that." He reached out for Hedwig. /You ok, Hedwig?/

/Yes, Harry-chick./ She said.

/Were you hearing me the way I was hearing you just now?/

/I believe so./ Hedwig said.

The fact she sounded a touch overwhelmed herself made Harry think that she had gotten the same sort of thing from him as he did from her during the exchange. /That is going to take some getting used to./ Harry told her. /And a lot of practice./

/Agreed./ Hedwig said, sounding amused.

"Hedwig's ok too." Harry said aloud. "But this is going to take some practice."

"Sounds like it." Sirius agreed.

July 18, 1992 Potter Castle

The last week and a half had been ... interesting ... for Draco Malfoy. He had been permitted to move into the Castle with his house elf (who was very restricted in her movements inside the castle) the day after his talk with Harry. He had also been sworn to and Unbreakable Vow to never communicate in any way to anyone anything he found out while in the Castle, without Sirius or Harry's permission. This, on top of his oath to never willingly or knowingly help Voldemort or his followers in any way.

Those oaths given, Draco had moved in. The things he discovered in the meantime had his Slytherin heart all a-flutter. He didn't even mind that he could never tell anyone. After all, knowledge was power, and telling people what you knew diluted your power.

Harry's status as the heir of Gryffindor was apparently something of an open secret to those who lived in the castle. The various visitors didn't seem to know it, or if they did it didn't come up. Draco had very nearly had a heart attack when he found that out.

More interesting, at least to him, was the sometimes nearly visible tension between his Head of House and Black and Lupin. Draco had no idea as to the cause, but he kept a sharp eye out. The way Snape and Black in particular acted, things had a good chance of eventually devolving to violence at some point.

Draco had been horrified when he found out that Lupin was a werewolf. The tales his father and grandfather had told him did not paint werewolves in a positive light. Draco had promptly made himself scarce whenever Lupin was about, but was watching from a distance. So far, Lupin seemed safe enough, though. The full moon had been earlier this week, and Lupin had disappeared for the day before and the day after, and Draco had heard nothing. From comments Draco'd heard, Snape was evidently making Wolfsbane for Lupin, so that was a definite comfort.

The Weasley herd had been surprisingly tolerable. The twins hadn't even pranked him ... yet. Draco was not fool enough to think that state of affairs would last, given their reputations. Even Snape did not seem able to fully curb their deplorable behavior.

More interesting by far was the fact that everyone in the castle was openly preparing for all-out war. Snape and the twins were often in the dungeon potions lab for the vast majority of the day. Lupin spent what free time he had after dealing with his duties as the Black and Potter families' majordomo doing research. The teachers and various others who came in and out daily were as busy, either teaching the various students in the castle or assisting with research. To Draco's surprise, he had swiftly been included in the extra lessons.

"I have no doubt that your family saw to your education prior to attending Hogwarts." Sirius had told him. "But there are bound to be gaps in your education, given their leanings, and even if there aren't, pushing yourself as far as you are capable is only wise, given what will be coming."

Draco had not disagreed in the least, and had attended the lessons willingly. He'd been surprised to find that he was quite behind the Gryffindor Gaggle, as he'd taken to calling it. He knew more Dark curses than they did, but they beat him out, by far, in every other category of spells. It became very clear very quickly that they'd been hiding their true abilities from the general public's knowledge. Which was a very good idea, if surprisingly Slytherin for a bunch of Gryffindors.

He missed his parents, and worried about them constantly. Nippy had been able to sneak into the mansion a few times and check on them, then reassure Draco as to their continued well-being, but it wasn't anywhere near the same.

Frankly, Draco found the air of 'waiting' to be horribly oppressive. The Death Eaters had gone ominously silent. Lucius had warned them that Voldemort had held back Barty to discuss the target for Voldemort's resurrection, and the assignments the others had been given. Black had, wisely, promptly informed Amelia Bones of the impending attack on Azkaban. Other than that, there was nothing they could do. It was driving Draco a bit bonkers, really.

He'd finally resorted to writing his Housemates and beginning the long, tricky process of ascertaining where their loyalties truly lay. He was fairly sure of a few of them. Flint, for instance, was a lost cause. He was a rabidly vocal Voldemort supporter who actively looked forward to being Marked as soon as he graduated. Crabbe and Goyle were likewise, if not vocal (they neither of them spoke much on any subject) then definitely loyal to Voldemort. On the other side of the fence were Greengrass, Davis, and Bulstrode. Zabini was a confirmed fence-sitter, along with at least four others that Draco knew of. Everyone else, Draco had no idea.

Various Places, July 3-18, 1992

Dobby had been a very busy house elf. He had not ceased to watch Barty after Draco was rescued from the Vindico spell. He reported religiously every evening, usually to Harry, who then told the adults. Not that there had been overmuch to tell. Dobby had, unfortunately, not heard who Barty was to target, as he did not want to risk being that close to Voldemort. He had no idea if Voldemort would be able to sense him or not, and didn't want to find out the hard way.

During the night, though, when Barty was asleep and after he'd given his daily report, Dobby worked on a mission he'd given himself. He'd heard about the Hogwarts house elves (and a few others) being asked to safeguard the Muggleborn students-to-be.

He thought it was a good idea, but he also thought they could go one step further. So Dobby had been going from home to home, talking to the elves of families that were not Voldemort supporters. At each home, he left the same message.

"Yous families is important. They must be kept safe. If they's not telling you you can't protect them, yous be doing exactly that, if bad mens come. Yous protect yous family!"

Given that the anti-Voldemort families that had house-elves treated them well, the house-elves in question took to the message with understandable zeal and fervor, and even spread the word. Dobby had also talked to the Hogwarts elves, hoping to get them to come to the aid of their fellows if there was a battle. The vast majority of them agreed with remarkable alacrity. Possibly because they'd spent their lives serving and protecting children and the children of children they'd served and protected in the past.

Several groups of house elves had gotten together in the last two weeks. The eldest had passed on offensive and defensive techniques that the youngsters hadn't had time or opportunity to learn. There'd been a lot of practicing, as well, in the dead of night when their families didn't need them. Hogwarts, as the largest place available, became the staging area for the house-elves' activities.

More remarkably, they had begun to shun the elves owned by Voldemort supporters. It was not an effort to punish the elves, as they had no choice in the matter, but to prevent the spread of damaging information to them, information that they could potentially be forced to reveal to their masters. When the time came, the elves would be as ready as their masters.

July 19, 1992 Romania

Harry, Sirius, Remus and Charlie spent the bulk of the morning exploring the reserve. Charlie showed them around, showing off the reserve's breeding pair of Hungarian Horntails. The reserve also boasted a breeding pair of Welsh Greens (the parents of Wilbur and Seren) and Swedish Short Snouts. According to Charlie, they were currently in talks with a Chinese reserve to trade a breeding pair of Chinese Fireballs in exchange for some of this season's clutches from the three existing pairs.

The reserves frequently traded breeding pairs and juvenile dragons in such a manner. It served to ensure that if disaster struck, the entire breeding population of any one breed of dragon would not be wiped out. It also helped prevent inbreeding by getting the offspring of breeding pairs separated and spread out over the globe. Of course that hadn't stopped there being a good bit of wrangling over which breeding pairs and how many juvenile dragons. Especially now, now that everyone was realizing just how intelligent the dragons were, and were developing actual relationships with them. That would, in the future, complicate transfers, as the teams that worked with the dragons would want and need to stay with their dragon. That, thankfully, wasn't going to be a factor with this exchange.

They'd stopped by the feeding pen after lunch. The Romanian Longhorn that had been chased off its meal the day before by the General was back, along with a Hebridean Black. Harry, reminded of the General, took the opportunity to ask Charlie about Ukranian Ironbellies.

"Not much is known about them." Charlie admitted. "You almost never see them. Big 'uns like the General seem to rule the roost as it were, but other than that, we really don't know much about them, except for the fact they're built differently than other dragons."

"I wonder if that's why I could talk to the General, but not any of the others." Because Harry had tried with every dragon he'd been able to meet, to no avail. "Maybe they're more closely related to snakes, or something."

Charlie shrugged helplessly. "Your guess is as good as mine there, kiddo." He admitted.

Shortly after that, the two dragons moved off. The three of them began thinking about heading back over to hang out with Wilbur, who was quite the attention hog. Before they got too deep into the discussion, the same massive shadow as the day before swept over them.

"Oh boy, he's back." Charlie said, tilting his head to watch the General swoop in to land in the feeding pen.

Curiously, he ignored the prey animals now bolting for the hills away from him. His full attention seemed to be on the three of them.

"Eeep. I think I started something yesterday." Harry said before taking a deep breath.

[[Hello again]] He greeted. Then, curiously. [[What is your name?]] Because while they couldn't talk to the other dragons to see if they had names for themselves, it seemed sort of rude to assume the dragon he *could* talk to didn't have a name for himself.

[[Speaker]] The General greeted. [[I am Hasisah.]]

Fortunately for Harry, those few brief words were fairly clear, if still accented.

[[I am Harry.]] Harry told Hasisah. [[Why come back?]]

[[Curious. Odd animals. Hunt, hurt. Then not. Must watch]]

Harry mentally grimaced. He was fairly sure he'd missed more than a few words in there, too garbled by the differences between regular parselmouth and what Hasisah was speaking for him to make sense of. Still, he got the general gist of the message. Hasisah was still curious about the humans and their new behavior regarding dragons, and now Harry and his ability to speak to him.

[[Harry here now?]] Hasisah asked.

It took a minute for Harry to figure out what Hasisah meant by that one. [[No. I live west. On island.]] He didn't even bother trying to name the UK, since he was very, very sure that regardless of Hasisah's intelligence level, he wasn't going to know (or care about) things like nations and their names.

Hasisah actually lifted his head and looked to the west, as if he could see the island in question. [[Why out territory?]]

[[We visit each other]] Harry explained.

That seemed to completely confound Hasisah, if the grumbling snort and double blink were anything to go by. [[So strange]] Hasisah said, then turned away and flew off again.

"Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice a little strangled.

"His name is Hasisah." Harry said. "And I don't think he quite grasps the concept of working together as a group, or anything like that."

Charlie frowned a little as he watched the General ... err, Hasisah, fly off. "Well, it sort of makes sense. No one has ever seen two or more Ironbellies hanging out together peacefully. A ton and a half of fights when two of them meet, but not so much with getting along." Then he grinned. "And hey, at least we have a real name for him now." Charlie grinned. "General Hasisah. Has a nice ring to it."

Harry and Sirius both laughed at Charlie's whimsy.

"Well, shall we head back over to Wilbur's?" Charlie asked.

They both agreed to that, and headed over.

July 19, 1992 Potter Castle

Sirius and Harry returned late in the evening, UK time. The castle was surprisingly quiet.

"Where the heck is everyone?" Harry asked Sirius as they headed for the third floor.

"Remus is likely in the office." Sirius said. "Snape and the twins in the potions lab, as usual. Not sure if anyone else is here."

Remus did indeed emerge from the direction of the office as they passed the second floor. "Hey you two." He greeted. "Have fun in Romania?"

"Loads." Harry said with a huge grin. "Got to pet several dragons, one of them several times. And got within about ... what, Sirius, thirty or forty feet or so?" Harry turned to look at Sirius.

Sirius, knowing what he was talking about, considered it, then nodded. "Sounds about right." He agreed.

"We got within thirty or forty feet of a Ukranian Ironbelly."

Remus' eyes went wide. "And you're still alive? That's quite a feat. They're notorious."

"Yeah, no kidding. This one, the handlers had named the General." Harry said, flinging both hands wide apart. "Huge. Sixty feet at least, maybe more. Looked like it'd been through the wars, too. Had scars all over its face and stuff."

Remus blinked. "I've heard of that particular Ironbelly. Seems to have claimed most of Europe as its territory and hunting grounds."

"Yeah. That's the one. And it could talk to me." Harry said, finally dropping the real bombshell.

"Really!" Remus looked ... almost as excited as Charlie had been. "What'd he have to say?"

"Not all that much. I did find out his name, though. Hasisah. And he really didn't seem to understand working together and stuff. He was also really hard to understand. It was like he spoke a really heavily accented dialect, or something."

Remus nodded. "That would have complicated things quite a bit." He agreed. "So what about the other dragons? What did they have to say?"

"Couldn't talk to them." Harry admitted. "And after I managed it with General Hasisah, trust me, I tried. If they were talking, I couldn't understand them at all." He sighed in disappointment.

"Still, Harry, even being able to talk to only one dragon is a heck of an accomplishment. If it's the same for the entire species, that's going to be remarkable." Remus said.

Harry grinned. "Yeah. And you should have heard the betting ... and arguing ... going on over flying with the dragons. Who'd manage a controlled flight first, how and when, all that sort of thing. Got really heated more than once, though it wasn't ever mean."

Remus laughed. "I imagine it would." He said. "Sadly, things have not been half so exciting here as they apparently were in Romania." He glanced at Sirius. "They've completed the first tests for the anti-magic armor for muggles, Sirius. They had one good success and a couple of milder ones."

"Already? I wasn't expecting the first batch to produce anything viable." Sirius said.

Remus shrugged. "We've got some of the current best minds bent to the problem, so I guess that helped. They're still not enough to handle the heavier curses, but the low to mid range is fine."

Sirius snorted. "That's a lot better than what I was expecting, though. Can we get the armor up to dealing with the heavier Dark Arts curses?"

"I think so." Remus said. "Not up to the Unforgivables, of course, but the others, yes. Oh, that reminds me. Severus mentioned the armor would be more ideal if we could get hold of dragon or basilisk hide, but we all know the dragon hide isn't happening."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, not now that everyone realizes just how smart the dragons are." He agreed. Then he frowned slightly. "Wait. Basilisks are snakes, right? Are the shed skins any good?"

Remus smiled at Harry. "Yes they are, actually. Not quite as good as the hide currently on the basilisk, but certainly better than most other materials."

Harry grinned. "And Shass has been down in the Chamber, growing and shedding, for a *long* time. There's probably enough shed skin down there to kit out everyone in the UK."

Remus laughed. "I wouldn't go quite that far, but there's certain to be enough for our purposes."

"We're going to have to wait for Dumbledore to leave the school for a bit." Harry said. "There is no way I'm wandering around the castle mucking about with Shass while he's there."

"Probably wise." Sirius agreed. "We'll keep an eye on him. He does travel during the summers, so he'll leave at some point, and we can head in then."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Harry said.

The three of them headed upstairs to their rooms to call it a night.

July 19, 1992 Bones Manor

Amelia Bones, having chosen her side, was faced with a rather interesting challenge. She now knew that there was going to be an attack on Azkaban at the end of July or the first week of August. She now knew that someone (they only knew it wasn't going to be Harry) was going to be targeted for use in Voldemort's planned resurrection ritual. She now knew that there was going to be a resurrection ritual at all.

She just wished they knew Voldemort's true identity. Insofar as she knew, no one had ever discovered his real name. If they knew that, it would be a simple manner to track down dead relatives of that name and strip the graves of the males bare. It was crude and more than slightly disrespectful of the dead, but if Amelia had to choose between disrespect to the dead and a fully re-bodied Dark Lord, she'd take the former every time.

Worse, Amelia had to somehow prepare her forces without alerting and alarming Fudge, who would presume her actions were an attempt at a takeover on her part. The man was excessively paranoid about his position as Minister for Magic being taken from him.

She'd set Tonks up as the liaison between herself and Black. It was the easiest choice. Tonks was his cousin, so her hanging about Black would draw no real comment from anyone. Amelia may have chosen a side but she was well aware that she needed to at least appear to be neutral to the general public until things blew wide open. Then she'd be able to openly side with Black.

It helped that Moody had sided with Black as well. That barmy old codger was incredibly useful despite his paranoia. Since he was still on the books as an Auror, she'd put him in charge of whipping the Aurors back into shape. This was, sadly, a necessity since the budget for the DMLE and Auror corps had been slashed to nearly nothing in the years since Voldemort's defeat. Tonks had, in fact, been the last new hire the Aurors had been able to obtain. They were down to the bare minimum of Aurors needed to 'keep the peace'. Which would be nowhere near enough when things went crazy again.

Thankfully, Black's plans and training regimen for his people would close much of the resultant gap. With a good number of people ready, willing, and able to jump into fights and win them, even if they weren't Aurors, things would not be quite so dire. The muggles ... Amelia wasn't quite as sure if their involvement would prove to be a benefit or not. Not because she thought muggles inferior, but simply because she didn't know how effective Muggle weapons would be against magicals. They were, at least, trained and disciplined enough to not panic, which was a mark in their favor.

The good news was that Amelia's ignorance of muggles' ability to fight magicals would be cured the next weekend. Black had arranged for a meeting between some muggle forces and members of his Alliance, to allow everyone on both sides to know what they could expect from combat. Moody was, of course, gleefully anticipating the event.

Amelia sorted the last of her mail and scowled when she spotted a missive from Dumbledore. Despite knowing her house-elf's diligence, she still cast a number of detection charms on the scroll. She wouldn't put it past the man to have a way to get past house-elves. Thankfully, nothing came up. Probably because Dumbledore was smart enough to realize that messing with the head of the DMLE was ... not wise.

She unrolled the scroll and read it through. Halfway through, she had to laugh. Because Dumbledore was up to his usual tricks, trying to insinuate things without actually coming out and saying them. From the tone of the letter, he was trying to cast doubt on Sirius and his motives, and to question Sirius' allegiances. He was, after all, now the Head of House Black. Surely that indicated some ... questionable ... thought processes? Or such were Dumbledore's insinuations.

Worse, the man was trying to hint that some or all of Black's new allies had been coerced. Because surely Houses long aligned with the Light would not stoop to following a Dark-aligned House willingly. Amelia scowled at the letter and finally put it aside. She'd have to let Sirius know that Dumbledore had increased his efforts to undermine the Black/Potter Alliance.


	11. Being Remade

Being Remade

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. MAJOR character death in this chapter. You are warned.

/Telepathy/

[[Parseltongue]]

**Private thoughts**

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

August 2, 1992 Hogsmeade

Dumbledore had not been having his usual, relaxed summer. Things had continued to go awry at the school even when the place was all but empty save for himself, Filch, and Hagrid. The stairs and the gargoyle that guarded his office misbehaved all the time. His food and drink were wrong as often as not. The list went on and on. And that was just what was going wrong inside the castle. Dumbledore refused to contemplate everything that had gone wrong outside of it.

Just thinking about Black and his alliance, or the Queen showing up unscheduled, was enough to make Dumbledore steam at the ears. Knowing that the Queen had been seen leaving the Wizengamot with Black was enough to make him want to scream. Worse, no one seemed to be paying any heed to his carefully worded cautions. To put it bluntly, Dumbledore was well on his way to being ignored or worse, forgotten. He had no idea how to fix it, either.

Frustrated with life in general, Dumbledore had opted to go for a stroll in Hogsmeade. The weather was unusually fine this early August day and a walk might do his mood some good. It had worked, too. A little past noon and four stores later, and Dumbledore was in a much better mood. He was also completely unaware of being watched.

Barty had been lurking around Hogsmeade since he had been given his assignment. He'd managed to buy some polyjuice potion from Knockturn Alley, allowing him to walk in broad daylight with none the wiser. Unfortunately, Dumbledore had been distinctly absent. Barty had been considering which of his plans to use to lure the man out of Hogwarts when he showed up on his own.

Barty immediately ducked into a side alley and summoned Winky, forcing her to go to Voldemort with the news that they would be on-site within a half-hour. Barty then bided his time, waiting for Dumbledore to approach the side alley he'd ducked down. It would be a simple enough affair to grab the Headmaster. After all, Barty wasn't after a fight with him. Whether Dumbledore remained caught was entirely up to his fellow Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort.

Barty had chosen his polyjuiced form with a fast snatch-and-run in mind. The less intimidating he looked, the more likely the old coot would be to presume he was helpless and thus drop whatever guard he had. And what was more harmless than a little old lady nearly as old as Dumbledore himself?

Eventually, Dumbledore got close enough that Barty was able to close the remaining distance in a fast lunge, triggering the portkey in his pocket at the same time as he got a death-grip on Dumbledore's arm. They were both whisked away before Dumbledore could do more than squawk, the sound lost in the general hubbub of the town. Without even the sound of apparation to garner attention, the two men disappeared unremarked.

August 2, Little Hangleton

This day had been very carefully prepared for. While they no longer had Snape's services, several Death Eaters were competent potion makers. As such, a number of potions had been prepared. One of them was to be used on Dumbledore. It was the only viable way to keep Dumbledore under control until Lord Voldemort was fully reborn. At least, it was the only way if they didn't want to have every Death Eater attending Lord Voldemort's rebirth. Since they needed to commit most of their forces to the Azkaban raid, full attendance was extremely impractical. There had been something of a lottery to decide who got to attend other than Barty. Runcorn, Parkinson, and Bletchley had won the spots by dint of being the best available fighters aside from those assigned tasks elsewhere.

Barty had ensured every possible angle was covered. The second he and Dumbledore landed in the graveyard they would be using for the ritual, Barty forced himself and Dumbledore down into a barely-controlled fall: rolling himself underneath the startled, unprepared Headmaster. A split second later, four stunners slammed into Dumbledore's back and he collapsed into unconsciousness. Because he caught the edges of the blasts, so did Barty.

But it was a price he had been willing to pay. There really had been no other way he could think of to transport and then render Dumbledore helpless without a lot of bloodshed and pain. But he had drilled his small group of helpers relentlessly in what to do, so that helped.

Runcorn, the biggest and sturdiest of the three, immediately set to work untangling Barty from Dumbledore and then floated Barty well away from the man. Runcorn then summoned one of his own house elves and told it to inform the group waiting to attack Azkaban to begin their assault. Once Barty was clear, Parkinson spelled the potion into Dumbledore's stomach. It would keep him paralyzed even if he woke unexpectedly.

Then Parkinson and Bletchley stripped Dumbledore bare and spelled a plain brown robe onto him. Once that was done, Dumbledore's robes were searched carefully and everything removed from the pockets in a search for portkeys. The robe and small pile of items were then put under an anti-summoning hex and hidden behind a tall tombstone, out of Dumbledore's line of sight. Then the two men trussed Dumbledore up like a Christmas goose. They also applied a silencing spell to hobble Dumbledore's ability to use wandless magic. They then left him at the foot of one of the graves.

While Parkinson and Bletchley were busy with Dumbledore, Runcorn revived Barty and handed him the polyjuice antidote so that he could resume his actual appearance. Parkinson and Bletchley then headed to the nearby house. Parkinson carefully levitated the enormous cauldron with its partially-done potion. Bletchley carefully carried the infant-sized golem that Voldemort had temporarily transferred himself into, since a whole, living human body could not be put into the resurrection potion.

Barty, meanwhile, arranged the necessary fire and gathered two of the three needed ingredients: a legbone from a grave marked Tom Riddle, and the somewhat desiccated lobe of his own ear. He had cut it off three days ago and left it to drain the blood out of it. Great care had to be taken with the potion, after all. The three necessary ingredients could not be contaminated. In other words, the bone couldn't have flesh or blood attached to it, the flesh couldn't have bone or blood, and the blood couldn't have bone or flesh.

Parkinson put the cauldron on the fire and then stepped back next to Runcorn, with the cauldron between them and Dumbledore. Bletchley took his place on the opposite side of Runcorn, holding Voldemort's blanket-wrapped golem. Barty took his place in front of the cauldron, standing between it and Dumbledore, then revived Dumbledore. It was a bit of a risk, waking him, but Lord Voldemort had been insistent that the man be awake and aware for his resurrection. Barty had agreed. While Dumbledore was definitely an enemy, and taking blood from him while he was knocked out might be enough, the ritual called for 'forcibly taken'. Taking blood from someone unconscious lacked somewhat in 'forcibly'.

Dumbledore seemed calm enough when he woke. After a few moments, however, his situation dawned on him fully. The small group of Death Eaters had the immeasurable pleasure of seeing Albus Dumbledore visibly afraid. Barty could not contain his smile as he stepped forward.

"Welcome, Headmaster. You are to be congratulated. You have been chosen for a most glorious purpose and to witness the greatest event of the age." Barty proclaimed, and waved a hand at their gathering. "The rebirth of the greatest wizard to ever live, Lord Voldemort."

Dumbledore looked like he wanted to argue with that one, of course, but with the silencing spell on him, he couldn't. Barty smiled at him toothily, then turned to Bletchley. "It is time to begin."

Bletchley nodded seriously and then carefully unwrapped Voldemort's golem. He then placed it in the cauldron, careful to let no part of himself touch the liquid within as he did so.

Barty took over from there, checking the bone over one last time to make doubly sure it was devoid of any contaminant. Reassured, he nodded to the others and together they chanted the appropriate lines of the ritual as each of the first two ingredients were added.

Once that was done, Parkinson pulled a small vial of potion, a wickedly sharp knife from its sheath on his belt, and an empty vial out of his pockets. He then approached Dumbledore, nodding to Runcorn as he did so, who also approached. Parkinson spelled the potion, which was an antidote to the paralyzing potion, into Dumbledore's stomach. Only when Dumbledore started to twitch and tried to thrash a few moments later did they continue.

Between them, they then freed one of Dumbledore's arms. Runcorn held tight to the freed limb while Parkinson cut a deep gash in the fleshy underside of Dumbledore's forearm. He let it bleed freely for a moment before he brought the vial under the flow of blood until it was full. Runcorn re-secured Dumbledore's arm and then settled in beside him, wand tip pressed against the man's neck. Parkinson handed the full vial of blood to Barty and then stood on the other side of Dumbledore, his wand tip touching the man's side. Bletchley moved so that the cauldron was no longer between himself and Dumbledore and leveled his wand at the man as well.

As one, the four men chanted the final line of the ritual as Barty poured the blood in. He backed up a few steps as thick white vapor poured out of the cauldron, obscuring their view of what was happening. Barty had to restrain a cheer as the vapor began to thin, revealing the shadowy form of a man rising from the cauldron.

"Robe me." Came the command in a familiar voice.

For once, it was neither filtered through another person's vocal equipment nor weakened by circumstance. This smooth baritone was pure Lord Voldemort. Barty, who had been burdened with appropriate attire for their Lord, stepped forward to obey the command.

"My wand." Lord Voldemort commanded. Barty immediately produced it. It had taken no small amount of trickery almost eleven years ago, to steal Lord Voldemort's wand away from the Ministry. They still believed they had it, lying in a protected spot in the depths of the Department of Mysteries. It was, however, a carefully transfigured stick.

Barty handed the wand over just as the vapor cleared entirely, revealing Lord Voldemort in all his glory to Dumbledore and the triad of Death Eaters.

The man that stepped carefully out of the cauldron could easily be mistaken for a wealthy statesman. He had an almost regal bearing that fit well with aristocratic features and a tall, physically fit body. Black hair with a few touches of silver and a few small wrinkles around the eyes and mouth gave him the appearance of a man in his early forties.

Voldemort paused for a moment, breathing deeply. Finally, after so long, he had a body. And not just any body, but the body that would have been his if he had not been blasted into near-oblivion. "You have done well, Barty." He praised.

Even his mind felt clearer, saner than it had been since he'd heard about the prophecy. Maybe even before that. He felt calm and focused, rather than being half-blinded by rage and paranoia. He regarded Dumbledore for a long moment, then smiled quietly.

"Bring me his belongings." He commanded.

Immediately, Parkinson hustled to where Dumbledore's things had been hidden and brought them to Voldemort, bowing low as he delivered them. Voldemort perused those belongings with a laugh. "A bag of lemon drops, Headmaster? It would seem nothing has changed."

He tossed everything save Dumbledore's wand to the side. The wand, he perused interestedly. "I wonder, Dumbledore, if you realize what it is you have here." He asked.

There was a slight shift in Dumbledore's expression.

"Ah! You do! So much the better." Voldemort said. "I believe it is time to prove, once and for all, that I fear no one." He turned to the others. "Put up an anti-apparation ward, then get outside it." He commanded. "This is between the Headmaster and myself."

The four of them hustled to obey. They grabbed the now-empty cauldron and Dumbledore's remaining things (just in case) and got the heck out of the way.

Once his followers were well clear, Voldemort tossed Dumbledore's wand to him lazily, flicking his own wand at the same time to remove the silencing spell that Dumbledore had been under all this time.

"I am afraid I must deprive you of the full trappings due an Honor Duel, Headmaster." Voldemort said. "Though I consider it thus."

Dumbledore got himself free of the restraints he'd been put under and flicked a spell at Voldemort, who dodged. "Why would you, Tom? You have no honor to defend."

"Thanks in large part to you." Voldemort returned, slashing his wand diagonally from left shoulder to right hip in front of himself, loosing a wide, vividly purple ribbon of magic.

Unable to dodge such a wide-spread spell, Dumbledore yanked one of the nearby tombstones out of the ground and levitated it in front of himself to absorb the spell, then sent a spell the yellow-green of old bruises at Voldemort. "Tut tut, Tom. Blaming me for your fall into the Dark."

Voldemort laughed as he spun away from the spell. "Oh no, Dumbledore. I'm not blaming you for that. Why would I? I quite like the Dark Arts. No, I blame you for denying me my rightful inheritance. The heir line of Slytherin may be long gone, but as the sole living descendant of pure Slytherin stock, I ought to have inherited whatever remains of Slytherin's earthly goods, and you knew that. But you kept your silence and by the time I found out about it, it was too late." Voldemort stopped toying with Dumbledore at that point. He aimed a spell chain at Dumbledore.

Spell chains were an advanced technique used in duels of all descriptions. They were groups of spells that were tailored to the strength and knowledge level of the caster. Each spell's wand movements flowed immediately into the next, allowing for little to no gap in the onslaught of spells aimed at an opponent. Chains could be designed for nearly any purpose; from harassment, to battering down an especially strong shield spell.

Of course, Voldemort's spell chains were nowhere near 'petty harassment'. Blood boiling, entrail-exploding, skinning, and turn-you-inside-out spells were the least of what he now aimed at Dumbledore. Of course, Dumbledore didn't exactly take this lying down, launching his own spell chain, though his kept firmly to so- called Light spells, rather than Voldemort's Dark Arts chains.

Dumbledore quickly found himself in a bit of trouble, which he did not understand. He and Voldemort had, after all, crossed wands during Voldemort's first reign. Voldemort had always thrown a handful of spells (almost always the Unforgivables) then run; which had led to the whole 'only one Voldemort feared' thing.

Voldemort was quick to pick up on Dumbledore's increasing confusion. He kept right on throwing spells, but since neither of them had to speak the spells aloud, he was free to taunt Dumbledore some more.

"You poor deluded Gryffindor fool." Voldemort laughed. "I am *Slytherin*. Not just by Sorting, but by blood. Playing a long game is second nature to me." He snorted as he dodged a spell that he couldn't shield against and then continued. "Playing at being afraid of you gave the common masses hope, you fool. Allowed them to think there was some shred of possibility of salvation. It also kept them looking to *you* for that salvation, rather than taking up arms themselves."

For the most part, of course; it had reduced and concentrated the opposition Voldemort had faced. Those few who could not abide standing aside went to Dumbledore and followed his lead. This had given Voldemort only two places to watch (the DMLE being the other), instead of having to be on the watch for multiple resistance groups all over the place.

"And killing you will destroy that hope, leaving them leaderless and breaking their spirits, making it all the easier to bring the Wizarding world under my control with minimal bloodshed." Voldemort said.

He knew things were nowhere near as assured as all of that, especially with Black set against him, but it didn't really matter. What mattered was breaking Dumbledore's confidence and concentration. Making him falter and hesitate, if even for a fraction of a second. Sadly, Dumbledore was not so easily sidetracked as that and their contest continued.

It wasn't until about ten minutes later, when the entire area they'd been restricted to had been laid to waste that Voldemort finally got his opening. Nothing remained in that area other than dirt, stone dust, and the warped, twisted remains of trees and bushes they'd each used against the other. The opening had come solely due to the difference in their ages. Dumbledore was just over a hundred years old. Voldemort was thirty-six years younger than Dumbledore, and the difference in their energy levels and stamina were finally telling.

Voldemort finally managed to clip the flagging Dumbledore with a bone-breaking hex in the middle of one of his spell chains. Dumbledore went down with a cry. Before he could recover himself, Voldemort was on him, battering him with spells. Unable to divert any spell work to healing his broken leg, Dumbledore was limited to staying more or less exactly where he'd fallen, shielding himself from Voldemort's spells instead of dodging most of them. Which meant his ability to counter with offensive spell chains of his own was severely undercut.

A few minutes after that, Voldemort finally managed to overwhelm Dumbledore's defenses completely, managing to sever his wand-arm at the elbow. Voldemort immediately severed the other arm in like manner, rendering Dumbledore completely helpless. He wandered over to Dumbledore's severed wand arm and plucked the Elder Wand from the lifeless fingers' grip, tucking it safely into a pocket.

"And now you come to understand, if all too late, that you had lost before you had even begun to fight me all those years ago. You are a fool, Dumbledore, and you will die a fool." Voldemort said. Then he turned to his followers.

"I want his face recognizable and he is mine to kill. Other than that, you may do with him as you will." Voldemort told them.

All four of them lit up and immediately pulled their wands, converging on Dumbledore. They had a brief conference, to decide who got to go first and what they were going to do, then immediately began casting at Dumbledore.

For over an hour, agonized screams, gurgles, and eerie, hair-raising silence alternated amidst the constant flash of spellfire. Eventually, the four men got bored and drifted away from Dumbledore's twisted, broken, but somehow still conscious form, one by one. When Barty, the last to get bored, finally walked away, Voldemort nodded to the four of them.

"Gather everything and apparate it to headquarters." He commanded. "If the Azkaban group has not returned, apparate there to see what's going on and render assistance if it's required."

"As you command, My Lord." Barty said, bowing low before he and the others hurried to do Voldemort's bidding.

Only once they were gone did Voldemort turn to the whimpering wreck that was all that was left of the so-called Leader of the Light. "Farewell, Dumbledore." One last spell and the last of Dumbledore's blood spilled into the dirt. Voldemort didn't use Avada Kedavra on him. It would have lessened the impact when Dumbledore was found. After all, everyone knew there was no countering that particular spell. That it had not been used on Dumbledore at any point would make it very, very clear that he had been beaten in a 'fair' fight.

Once Dumbledore was well and truly dead, Voldemort gathered him and his belongings and took down the anti-apparation spell that had kept them penned into the area. He then apparated to a seldom-used back alley in Hogsmeade that Barty had sussed out earlier in the month for precisely this purpose. Voldemort arranged Dumbledore's body artfully, then pulled the Elder Wand out of his pocket. It hummed briefly against his hand. Voldemort smiled before raising it to cast one last spell.

"Morsmordre!"

Voldemort stayed only long enough to hear the first terrified scream before he apparated out.

August 2, 1992 Location Unknown

By the time Voldemort returned to Malfoy Manor, the place was all but overrun with people. Fenrir and his small band of werewolves were standing against one wall, out of the general flow of traffic, while the vampire clan that had answered Voldemort's call to arms flitted about, assisting the marked Death Eaters and unmarked supporters who had gone on the Azkaban raid.

Voldemort took a careful tally, grimacing slightly at the level of damage done. He'd expected something of the sort - they were too few to have escaped unscathed - but he still didn't like seeing it. Most of the raiders were sporting some sort of damage, many of them in quite bad shape. The escapees, of course, were all ragged and skeletally thin, alongside being injured from assisting in their own escape.

Voldemort quietly began to pass among them, offering a touch, a quiet word, and in a few cases, a healing spell or counter to a spell that needed one before the damage could be healed. He accepted their groveling and worshipful praise as his rightful due. The hope and joy in most of the escapees' faces was particularly gratifying.

He lingered longest by Bellatrix. She had been, alongside Barty, both his most loyal follower and his most dangerous one. She was, unfortunately, completely insane, and had been long before her stint in Azkaban. Voldemort supposed it was the price the Black family had paid over the centuries for their inbreeding. Azkaban, it seemed, had made the situation worse. He was going to have to find a way to keep her under control, or she would cost him far more than she was worth to him. Fortunately, he had a number of possible ways to affect some control on her actions.

"You must rest." He soothed her, after her rambling had wound down a bit. "Rest and recover. There will be time enough for you to wreak vengeance on those that incarcerated you."

He gave her arm one last pat and then moved away to consult with the most able Healer among their number. Blast Snape and his treachery. He would have been incredibly useful. But a decade as Dumbledore's lapdog seemed to have muzzled the potion master's bite.

"Report." He commanded.

"The bulk of the raiders will be back in fighting trim by week's end." The man told him. "A couple will need a few days more than that, I think. The ex-prisoners, on the other hand, won't be fully back on their feet until the end of summer. They're going to need some time to put on some weight and overcome the worst of the dementors' effects on them."

"Obtain whatever they need, by whatever needs you must." Voldemort commanded. "If anything is beyond your immediate reach, inform me at once and I will see to it that it is obtained."

The man bowed deeply. "As you command, Lord Voldemort."

Voldemort then gathered those of the company that were uninjured or had already been patched up and led them into a nearby room.

"They will attempt to track us down. This place will be under Fidelius, but I want a guard in place at all times regardless. If you see anyone from the Ministry or whom is known to be in Dumbledore's Order or Black's alliance, report their presence immediately but do not engage them."

"As you command, Lord Voldemort." They fairly chorused, quickly conferring among themselves in order to set up a guard rotation.

Voldemort, for his part, walked outside. The place wasn't under a Fidelius yet. He hadn't been able to do the spell before he'd been re-bodied, and had not wanted to have one of his followers do it. After all, they could be killed at any point, at which point everyone that knew the secret would become a Secret Keeper in their own right, making the Fidelius all but useless. On the other hand, Voldemort knew he could not be truly killed. Busted down to vapor, yes; killed, no. The Fidelius would remain unbroken with him as Secret Keeper.

It helped that this place had been in preparation as a future stronghold when he'd gone after the Potter boy. It had taken remarkably little work over the last few weeks to get the place completely ready, both for habitation and for the Fidelius spell. Better yet, it had remained undiscovered by Dumbledore or the Ministry.

Much of the work done at their new headquarters had been preparations for the Fidelius spell. The boundaries of the area to be under the Fidelius spell had to be clearly marked in some manner. The Death Eaters had to make sure that all four sides of the property had been carefully trimmed such that trees and bushes did not overlap with unprotected neighbors either above ground or below. A shallow, narrow trench had been dug in the grass, to further demarcate the boundaries and prevent even the grass from tangling with unprotected neighbors.

The incantation to seal headquarters under a Fidelius was but a moment's work for Voldemort. He gave a pleased nod when he felt the spell snap into place, and heard a rush of confusion from inside the building. He smiled slightly and headed back inside.

It was the work of a few moments to calm everyone down. He then wrote down the necessary information on a single sheet of parchment and handed it from person to person, charging them to memorize the information. By the time he'd gotten to the second person, word of what had happened was working its way through the building.

By the time that was done and Voldemort was able to incinerate the piece of parchment, things had calmed down considerably. Many of the injured were asleep. Those that were not and were mobile gathered in the dining area to partake of a late dinner.

"Tonight heralds the beginning of the end for the Ministry." Voldemort said. "We will face challenges yet, but our triumph is ordained by the very stars above. Stay loyal and true, do your best, and we will be the masters of the Wizarding world within a year."

There was a lot of cheering at that prospect. "Now, eat and restore your strength. Tomorrow, the real work begins." Voldemort told them, then snapped his fingers.

The table groaned under the weight of the food platters that appeared a half-second after that snap. The men and women around the table piled their plates with food and began to eat. At first, it was silent, less because no one had anything to say and more because they were leery of Voldemort's mood.

But gradually, as they began to divine that Voldemort was in a very good mood, they began to talk to their neighbors. The more Voldemort held his own tongue and looked quietly pleased, the more they talked and the more boisterous they got.

Voldemort knew it would take some time for them to forget his capriciousness and vicious behavior prior to his reduction to a vapor. It would be a fine balancing act, ensuring that they still feared him and obeyed without question, without resorting to the unpredictable behavior he'd once indulged in.

Voldemort silently resolved to do some research, and try to find an answer to why he'd become so unhinged a bit over a decade ago and why he was so clear-headed now. It was a definite mystery and something he needed to understand. That way, if he was going to eventually return to his unpredictable ways, he could at least try to do something about it.

He stayed quiet while his followers celebrated their victorious reunion in grand style, getting as much enjoyment from their merriment as if he had participated. Eventually, they wound down. Once everyone had eaten their fill, Voldemort regained their attention.

"Now, to matters of business. Lucius." Voldemort said, speaking to the pale blonde, who had fortunately been one of the ones to escape major injury. "You will continue your efforts to stymie Black in the Wizengamot. I do not expect you to succeed so do not fear failure. Merely make it as difficult for him as possible to get anywhere with his proposed reforms."

Lucius bowed, accepting his orders.

"The healers and potion makers among our number will continue to attend to the needs of our injured comrades. Barty, I would like for you and the most capable of our followers to organize a retraining program for everyone as they regain fitness. Those of our people who were in Azkaban will be quite rusty with their skills and in need of a refresher, and the badly injured will need to regain their form."

Barty nodded.

"Fenrir, I want you and your pack to sow as much chaos as you can among both the muggle and magical communities. Bite at will but do not kill." Voldemort commanded. "The same applies to Johan and our Vampire brethren." Voldemort nodded to the leader of the vampire clan, who nodded back in return.

"I want recruitment stepped up." Voldemort said. "Those of you with children of age will bring them before me a week from now at a place I will set up, to be assessed for their suitability for our cause. They will *not* be forced." He commanded. "Unwilling recruits are poor recruits. If they do not wish to serve me, they will not be punished. They will merely be obliviated of the knowledge of having met with me and allowed to return to their lives." That would, hopefully, reassure his people as to the fates of their offspring. "Only those loyal to the cause will be brought here to Headquarters and marked."

"The Ministry will have its hands full trying to regain control of the dementors, which will aid our efforts." Voldemort continued. "But I want as many of the Dark creatures committed to our cause as we can manage, preferably all of them. While Fenrir and Johan are sowing chaos, the rest of you at this table will begin to gather them. You are also permitted to cause whatever chaos you can manage while going about your task. There is to be no killing of anyone magical, even halfbloods and mudbloods. Every drop of magical blood in existence is precious, and enough of it has been spilled already. That being said, you may kill muggles with impunity."


End file.
